I have no clue

i-had-no-clue-khawaja-ali-arshad“You’re not happy.”

I could feel her tilt her head to one side as she spoke.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” I replied without looking up from my screen, my fingers typing out the words faster than my mind could keep with.

She shrugged. “Just an observation, I suppose.”

“Well, it would do you well to keep your observations to yourself.” There was no need for such flippancy, especially when she was such a good friend, but what she said had hit a nerve.

It was true. In more ways than one. But admitting it would’ve meant admitting there was a problem. And problems require solutions. Solutions take time. Time, I didn’t have. Not as a guy who wanted the world and more but was constantly falling short. You could blame convention but the irony was that the constant running just made everything that much harder. Stability at the cost of freedom. Trust at the cost of love.

I wonder if we look for things we know we won’t find just to keep up the pretense. After all, at a certain age you know your fears. Mine was losing myself. But it happened anyway. So why was I still struggling? Had I gotten so used to the fight that I’d take on anything as a substitute? For now, the momentum of youth is carrying me but time will catch up sooner or later. What then, I have no clue.

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