At 11:59

Maybe there's still time....but what if there isn't? I laid on my bed as I measured the days in hours I still had left till I packed my life in a couple of boxes to move to New Orleans. This had been my one of my few dreams ever since I was little. The plan was to finish high school with good grades cos that was the only way dad would be convinced I was responsible enough to live alone. At least it did work. But there was a little part of me that didn't want to go, to leave my whole life and start all over. I hadn't even had to chance to check off a few things from my bucket list and there's still quite a lot to be done. One of which gives me the chills each time I think of it and for some reasons I have a feeling I might never be able to check that one little thing off My phone buzzes once and then it goes off again. I turned towards it slowly trying not to lose concentration in my thoughts. Mum: Don't leave anything important behind. Come down for breakfast right away. "Important", I chuckled. That word seems to have completely different meaning to me. I let out a quiet breath through my nose. The room around me was already halfway gone. One corner had stacked boxes, another was filled with crumpled up clothes which were already due for laundry. Another still looked like me, like nothing had changed yet. That in-between space felt worse than anything. A knock comes on the door and I already know who it is. "Mum, gimme some time I'm still...." Before I could finish my mum pushed the door open and caught me off-guard. "You're still on the bed?" She asks, glancing me like she already knew the answer. "I'm thinking". She raised an eyebrow. "That is unfortunately wrong timing son" I almost smiled. Almost. She walks in fully now, stepping around a half-open box. "You've got a couple of days". You should be packing, not lying there like your life is going to arrange itself". "It already feels like it's leaving without me", I say quietly. This makes her pause for a second. Then she comes to sit beside me on the bed, her tone softer this time. "You wanted this" "I know". "And now you got it". "I know". But knowing and feeling are not the same thing. Silence settles in for what seemed like forever between us. Eventually she gets up. "Get ready and come down or you will be late". When she walks away, I stay still for a couple of moments longer. Then I get up,because staying still was gradually starting to feel like running away. I walk up to my desk and the first drawer I opened was the top counter. It was all about messy papers,pens that didn't work and a charger I kept for no reason other than a habit. Amidst crumpled papers and scribbles I see it. My bucket list journal. I don't move for a second. Because this thing never feels like paper. It feels like a whole proof. Proof of everything I have ever wanted....and everything I had quietly avoided. I still open it anyways. * Learn to play the piano * Go alone and have some time to myself in Terme di Saturnia * Watch the sunset * Say it to her out loud My fingers stopped abruptly. And the thing is they always stopped there. That line wasn't just a goal, it was the reason my chest felt tight each time I imagined leaving. Because I knew exactly who it was about and I knew why I hadn't done it. Not because I didn't want to but because I did. So badly that it started to feel unhealthy and consuming. I shut the journal quickly like I could close the feeling with it. My phone buzzes again. School group chat: "Final activities schedule posted". Right. Life doesn't pause just because mine feels like it's breaking into chapters I can't recognise anymore. I stretch a little and walk in to freshen up. Maybe going to class today would help, or maybe I couldn't just stay in here anymore. I get to school just in time for my next lesson. I walk in confused at first, not so familiar faces moving all around. Everything looks the same, the PHE lab, the sports field, the janitors closet, and the little corners where students stand to chitchat. Final year students possibly seen having the moments of their lives. That was the problem, nothing around me had changed. Just me. I slow down in one of the corners of the hallway. I don't even know why, but I do. Maybe my body remembers before my mind does. She was there. Just standing and doesn't turn around. She doesn't have to, because her world is still whole and I'm not a part of it.