time.

I remember one time when my Papa was driving me home after I had stayed over at his house and he was explaining that there are 60 seconds in 1 minute and that time passes really quickly. And I remember arguing that 60 seconds is actually a really long time. I stared at the crappy digital clock on his ancient dashboard until a minute passed and I was just silent and I just kept staring and then it finally changed to the next minute and I said, see that took forever. I remember it feeling like an eternity. Papa said, "holy, it's already been a minute?" and I just couldn't understand how his minutes were faster than my minutes.
As I grow up, I understand how minutes can seem to go by so quickly. It seems like everything is moving so fast and time is passing faster and faster. Now that I'm half way through my grade twelve year and so many things are changing I just wish time would slow down a little. Do I though? Writing those words feel like a lie. Maybe I just want to finish this year but I'm also very afraid of what's going to happen in the future. Part of me is excited for failure and excitement and life but an even bigger part of me doesn't want to have to deal with it.
It's hard to believe that that was 12 or so years ago. I must have fallen asleep on that car ride and when I woke up I was still in his van and we were parked outside my parent's business. Papa's van had these really weird handles on the sliding doors in the back and I'm not sure if it was because of my sleepy haze or because I was alarmed that I was alone but for some reason I couldn't figure out how to open the doors. I just couldn't figure it out even though I had opened them thousands of times before but this time I just couldn't figure it out so I started screaming and yelling and sobbing. But I don't remember what happened. I just remember being stuck in the van and screaming but I don't remember how I got out. I know that it felt like I was in there for a really really long time though.