In a Rush

Writer: Mia

Editor: Khaled Mohamed

Photo Credits: Henry Lee


I remember having this dream: one where I was running so fast that I couldn’t even take a proper breath. I didn’t feel my legs touching the floor, it felt non-existent. I was trying so hard to reach somewhere, but I never knew where nor why, and I certainly didn’t reach it anyways.

It’s like I’m constantly rushing towards something; scared that it might go away, scared that it wouldn’t last, and scared that I might miss out. Every single time a smile is resting on my face, I rush forward scared that I might miss the moment, terrified that in the next couple of seconds, there might not be a smile anymore.

Yet I wonder why we try so hard to be happy, and when we finally are, we start looking for reasons as to why this might not work out, why it wouldn’t last long. And we look and search and run until suddenly we realize: we’ve already missed it. We missed the moment we fought so hard to feel and savor again. All because we were afraid we might miss it in the first place. 

Isn’t it very funny how life works? We rush into everything: happiness, sadness, relief, anger and even emptiness. We run so hard to prove a point, but to whom? To life itself, or ourselves? And after messing things up, we blame life for it. We rant about how life is unfair, about how we aren’t happy, about how we deserve a happy ending, about what we thought we had, but really we never did. Then we start panicking when the smile gets here. 

I sometimes wonder whose fault it is. Is it ours for not enjoying every single moment like we were supposed to? Or is it really destiny’s? I’m confused and impressed. Impressed, because I never expected humans to actually be this dumb, to miss out on everything and start blaming life for it. But perhaps we, as a species, never got used to happiness.

Maybe it’s true that every time we think everything is fine, something bad happens. Maybe our fears have taken over and left us no escape, not anymore. 
I wonder when is the right time to actually stop and take a breath, to not worry about what’s next. Because at some point, we do deserve our happy endings. We’ve seen it all, felt it all, and we’re ready for more. But until then, I hope it ends well, I hope I reach wherever I was running to. Because somehow, even though I feel like I’ve reached the top, I am still far, far away.