The Day That Never Comes Came Today

I am so tired of waiting for tomorrow. I see the signs, feel the onset of procrastination – the couch cushion under my shoulder as I angle a pillow into my neck about to watch that movie again… I always say that “Tomorrow I’m gonna…”, though seldom does that moment come.

It feels so much better to have a plan than to fail at achieving one. It gives us hope and a sense of purpose yet, we know that what we hope for and what purpose we believe we have is far enough ahead that if we didn’t act yesterday, time would dull our desire for it until we forget we ever wanted something in the first place. 

It’s a bit of bullshit if you ask me. I want so much but constantly wonder if much of what I desire, I strive for it under my own fruition. I ask myself regularly why I am doing something, and, too often, the answer is a profound “I don’t know!” When that happens, I pause and consider whether this goal was created by me or by some other entity.

I talked to a shrink once, and it didn’t take long for a Truth to materialize. That Truth is: Much of what I do is based on past guilt and future fear of regret. I make decisions based on inactions I wish I acted on or poor choices I never should’ve made. They’ve molded nearly everything I do. They developed into the career I chose, the habits I formed, the reactions I have, the way I talk, the jokes I make, the topics I care about, the people I surround myself with, the woman I love; I am just so damn tired of being afraid that not even the things designed to scare me – like scary movies and shows and images – make me flinch. I wonder if there’s something wrong, if there’s a screw loose, or if said screw ever existed at all, and something pivotal is just dangling in wait of falling or fixing.

It’s so fuckin’ awful to feel so fuckin’ inadequate within every blink. Hell, sometimes I can’t even walk correctly because I’m thinking about how I look doing it or because my mind is running so frantically I just can’t focus. And it’s all because I’m constantly waiting for that “tomorrow” to transition into today. I’m waiting for yesterday’s dreams and today’s efforts to transform into the reality I’ve been waiting for, I’ve been expecting and wanting for myself. 

But then I realized something that changed everything…

I believe that for many of us, including for myself, that elusive “tomorrow” we’ve been waiting for had come long ago.

We are the things that we set out to be because we are actually attempting to be them, to earn our stripes, and internally consider ourselves the very thing we wish to be. We are artists because we create art; we are lovers because we choose to love; we are intellectuals because we use our intellect for good. Every day we acquire knowledge, badges, pins, chips, accolades, and whatever else because we fuckin’ applied ourselves! We are all that we say we are because we make honest attempts at earning those sought-after titles. Sure, we might not ever achieve notoriety or commercial success, but that doesn’t make us any less talented or deserving of that metaphysical – and occasionally physical – pat on the back to keeps our dreams alive.

So few people pick up a pen anymore, bury their insecurities, and try something new; close their eyes and slow dance in the rain – or an aisle of a grocery store – just because they feel that they want to. So few people embark on their journey, stare adversity in the face, call the Devil a dick. It’s that fear, that knowledge of just how painful regret and guilt actually are, that keeps us so quiet.

But I ask: Is it not healthy to be a bit of a sadist?

When we achieve something, was the pain endured enjoyable in some way? Learn to revel in the ache! Do what you have to in order to be whatever makes you happiest, regardless of the level of success you attain because, at the end of the day, we all get old. Our knees will grind, our thighs won’t always lift us anymore, and our passion will burn out. For the unlucky ones, an illness will settle in and call us mommy or daddy. Regardless of whatever hindrance you inevitably succumb to, what we are all left with is the exact thing we ran from in the first place – regret and guilt. They are the entities that’ll cuddle us to comfort as we die, the unwanted and unrequited Munchausen parent(s) that keeps us sick when nothing actually is wrong.

Stop saying “tomorrow,” for you know deep down that that day will never come. Start loving the word yesterday because soon you’ll say, “I achieved (fill in the blank) yesterday. What’ll I achieve today?”