You think you have all the time in the world. There is always tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Or next week. All the time in the world.
But there isn’t. And you do not; you do not have anything but a solitary moment. Even though you can see them coming, those big moments, when they hit, you are still never ready for them. You thought you had all the time in the world, but now time has ground to a jolting, choking halt.
And there is nothing you can do except flail in the thick waters of helplessness while you watch the hands move inexorably around the clock, without your permission or participation. The feeling that time – that life – has tricked you, is suffocating. The reality of time is that it is an illusion. And you can’t have something that doesn’t exist.