Olivia Strauss Is Running Out of Time

by Angela Brown

They were like neat little rectangular reminders of the many sunrises and sunsets that still lingered on my horizon line, all the time I still had stretched before me to daydream and procrastinate and list out my life instead of actually living it.

But that’s the thing I’ve only recently come to understand about birthdays. They’re not about presents or streamers. They’re not about parties or pictures or petite pastel candles on your cake. They’re about having a brief sense of hope. For that one day, we’re able to close the door on our mistakes and cling to the false idea that we’ll approach the next year wiser. We make wishes. We blow out candles. We tell ourselves this will be our year.

Sometimes, you just have to sit quietly with your grief and give it room to breathe. You have to acknowledge that it is a part of you, and that it probably always will be.