“When the time comes, be ready.”

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘱𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴.” “𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺, 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘎𝘰𝘥’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥.”

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘣𝘺𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵. 𝘐 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵. 𝘐𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘵.

I finished writing and set my pencil down in my notebook before closing it. I got up and headed towards the window. It’s only been a week but I feel as if I’ve been looking out at the same view for months now. I keep waiting for something to change, for good news to come. But it never does.

Jackson was the first boy I ever gave my heart to. He got into a pretty bad accident on his motorcycle. That day keeps flashing through my mind..

“𝘐 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘰, 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦?”

“𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦.”

“𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦. 𝘓𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘭. 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥?”

That last part lingers in my mind every time. Then it was just a question of “what if”. Now it’s a matter of “when”.

And when the time comes, whether I want to be or not, I’ll have to be ready.