I’ve Got Plenty of Time

That's Not Me. I'm Different.

A few weeks back, I heard about a former classmate. We shared the same name, which made it feel heavier. He had cancer a few years ago, and now he’s gone. I kept thinking about that for a while. We’re so young—how does that even happen? But then I told myself I’m not even 23 yet. I’ve got plenty of time. Death feels like something far off, something that happens to other people, not me. So I let it go and moved on with my day.

I saw a lady some days ago. She could barely walk. She was hunched over, her steps slow and shaky, like each one took everything she had. I was driving so I offered her a lift. "No," she said, she was taking a stroll, her daily exercise. So I went away. While I was going back after dropping the car, I met her again. She was still walking, so I walked beside her. Turns out she was going to visit her friend in the next street, so I walked with her. As we went, she started talking. She told me she used to be one of the most beautiful women in her village when she was young. I looked at her, 88 years old now, barely able to move — and I couldn't see it. She told me that time flies. I wonder what she meant. I'm not even 23 yet. I still have a lot of time.

Recently, I saw a car accident when I was coming back home from an errand. The guy was young, younger than I am. Bruises on his face and a bone sticking out of his leg. It looked bad. Later, I heard he didn't make it. I wondered about that. He probably had plans, things he wanted to do. But then I told myself I’m not even 23 yet. I’ve got plenty of time. That kind of thing won’t happen to me.

Two months ago, I was in the hospital and saw a mother crying. Her child had been diagnosed with a disease (I didn't hear which one it was). The child was only 7 years old, playing with toys in the hospital bed, smiling, not knowing how serious it was. But the mother couldn’t stop crying. I felt bad for them, watching her wipe her tears while the child laughed at a little plastic car. I felt sorry for them, but then I shrugged it off. I'm not even 23 yet. I've got plenty of time. Things like that won't happen to me.

I am not even 23 yet. I have a lot of time. I can use my time anyhow I want. I will sin today. I will later repent. I can use my body anyhow I want. When I get old, I'll later exercise. I'm still young. I can start working hard later. I still have a lot of time. I’ve got plenty of time to get serious. I'm not even 23 yet.

Yesterday, I read about another accident. A family was coming back after Eid. I didn’t finish the story—it sounded heavy, and I didn’t want to deal with it. I told myself I’ve got plenty of time to think about stuff like that. I’m not even 23 yet. Things like that don’t need to weigh me down right now.

Yesterday, I started thinking maybe I should use my time better. Maybe I should work on myself—learn something new, take care of my body, stop wasting days. Time is moving, and I can feel it. I told myself I’d start tomorrow. I will start improving myself tomorrow.

I woke up today feeling young, strong, and healthy. I remembered my promise from last night—to start improving myself, to learn a skill, exercise more, eat better, use my time wisely. But then I thought about it again. I'm not even 23 yet. I've got plenty of time to start all that. Why rush? I can push it off a little longer.

I was walking through the streets later, looking at people around me. So many different ages, so many different lives. Some people seem to have it good—nice houses, happy families. Others look like they're struggling, living lives I'd never want for myself. I thought about that. I told myself I won't end up like the ones who are struggling. I'll have a good life, a great life. But I don't need to start working for it now. I'm still young. I've got plenty of time.

Then I thought about the family in the accident again. Maybe they thought the same thing before they left their house that day. Maybe they told themselves they were young, that they had plenty of time to live, to fix things, to get better. Maybe my classmate thought that too before the cancer took him. Maybe the guy in the car crash thought he had years ahead of him. Maybe that mother in the hospital thought her child had a whole life to grow up. I pushed those thoughts away. That’s not me. I’m different. I’m not even 23 yet. I’ve got plenty of time.

Sometimes, when I’m in my room at night, it’s dark, and my thoughts start to wander, and for just a brief moment, I wonder if maybe I don’t have as much time as I think. But then I shake it off. I’m not like them. I’m still here, still young, still breathing. I can keep living how I want. I can keep putting things off. I’ll start tomorrow, or maybe the day after. I’ll work on myself later. I’ll learn from life later. I’ll move on and grow later. I’m not even 23 yet. I've got plenty of time.

Hi and Welcome to the new subscribers. I wrote a post two weeks back on the consequences of pre-marital actions. In sha Allah, I will be writing subsequent posts on some habits to learn and unlearn about marriage, things to look out for, and some considerations about the changes in modern marriage and responsibilities.