I’ve found myself in situation after situation over the last few months where I wonder when it’s time to say when. I’ve always been the kind of person that when it is time to throw in the towel on something, I just know it, and in the exact moment that I know it, it’s just that simple. Whatever needs to not be done, or taken, or worked at, or put up with, from that point on, I just don’t. Most times, I stick it out longer than anyone else would. It’s my nature. If something doesn’t come easy, I just work harder at it.
Maybe it has something to do with having reached the middle. 40 is around the corner and I’ve been awaiting it with it open arms, but not without the consideration that, God willing, I’ll make it 80, so I’m smack in the middle. As many years are gone already as are ahead of me and no one knows better than I do that I wasted half of the half of my life that I’ve already lived. I don’t want to waste half of the half that remains – not on people, not on the wrong things, not on working my butt off for something that just never seems to come. It might be time to start saying when a little sooner, but knowing when to say it…. that just isn’t coming with the same certainty as it did when I was young. Heck, there was so much more time to make mistakes then. Now, if I miss an opportunity, there is less likely to be another one. If give up too soon or not soon enough, I may not get to do it over again. Things seem to have so much weight to them here in the middle. They seem to whisper a threat of finality.
It probably doesn’t make sense in anyone else’s brain but my own right now. I’m okay with that. This is my middle alone and only I can figure out when it’s time to say when. I will lay my head on the pillow tonight with a prayer on lips for clarity.