Even Rest Feels Like a Deadline

I sat down today
with absolutely nothing to finish.

No deadline.
No unfinished assignment.
No message demanding an answer.

Just an evening
and a little time to myself.

Strangely,
I couldn't enjoy either.

My mind began making lists.

Things I should learn.
Things I should build.
People I should call.
Places I should reach
before the years get ahead of me.

I tried listening to music.

A song became a memory.
The memory became a question.
The question became another reason
to stay awake.

I sometimes wonder
who taught my mind
that being still
is the same as falling behind.

I have spent so long
imagining the person I could become
that I hardly know
how to sit beside the person I am.

And there are things
I would never put on a résumé.

How often I almost called someone.
How many evenings I spent
waiting for a reason to go outside.
How many times I wanted to say
“I don't feel particularly okay,”
but answered “I'm good” instead.

I don't want to abandon my ambitions.

I just wish they would let me
be a person sometimes.

Someone who can waste an afternoon
without feeling guilty.

Someone who can be loved
without first becoming impressive.

Someone who can close his eyes
without calculating
how much time he has left.

Tonight, I have decided
not to chase another version of myself.

Let him wait.

For a few hours,
I would like to meet the one
who is already here.