On time

January has quietly slipped by with me taking little notice except to mark a few important days. I find myself constantly amazed at the rate at which time glides by. At one point a single day was the entirety of my existence and since that point it has been infinitely dividing into smaller portions. It seems now that there barely exists enough time in a single day to wake and fall asleep, and there are days when precious little happens between these two obligatory acts. What must if feel like to be 50 or 90. A day will pass in the time you can blink, constitution practically nothing of your life.
At the end of each month that passes I find myself taking a quick count of how many more months until I set eyes on green Ohio, till I'm held in familiar arms, and until I'm forced to confront at least a piece of my past. Four months until I board that long flight and four months since I left. Seven months of living in Europe and seven more to go. Surely those seven months will flash by like the last seven.
The other day something brought to mind, I can't remember what exactly now, a conversation I had with my father the summer before my senior year at Denison. We were sitting outside of Victoria's having breakfast with Kathy in Granville, discussing my life after Denison. I remember, a bit absent-mindedly telling them that I was going to live in Europe for a year or so after I graduated. I don't know that I understood the possibilities contained in that statement, the potential realities that existed therein. I wonder what else I have said in passing without understanding what the suggestion really implies...