On time and heartaches.

Oh let me tell you about this strange continuum in which life occurs in an apparently succession from past to future... let me tell you about this irreversible relativity that is time. 

The more you live, the less you have it, but the more you long for it. It seems to go faster as years go by and yet, at moments, when you most need it to speed up, it slows down like the unhurried pace of a lazy snail. The minutes take days to end and everything stops and thickens as you hurt. 

Time, they say it is of the essence, and I say, at times, it is of salvation. The salvation of a soul when it's breaking, of a heart when it's aching, of my heavy bones carrying a fainting body. 

Only time can heal, can lift the weakened spirit and save from sorrow. Only time. 

A waiting game sometimes. The patience of let it all fly by... the anger of the damage, the mourning, the sadness, the memories that won't ever be. 

Only time, in its infinite mercy, can lighten the burden of what will be the eternal longing of a lost love, a lost past, a lost present and a never existing future...
Only time accumulating can bury the acute pain of loss and make it less palpable, less strangling, not so overpowering. 

The scars will stay, the love, if real, won't go and yet it will all be bearable as time goes by. It will all be bearable. 

Stand by. Don't hurry the precious lifeline. Take a deep breath and know that it's a matter of time.

It is a matter of time, I say.

Heartaches don't last forever.

Oh let me tell you about these saving minutes, so many of them, that take forever to run by.



The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

It's strange what desire will make foolish people do.
I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you.
And I never dreamed that I'd lose somebody like you.
No, I don't want to fall in love.

                                                                      Chris Isaak