fifteen minutes.
nine hundred seconds.
that may not seem like a lot, and compared to hours, it's nothing.
but on that nerve racking day of january 28, 2017, seconds dragged on and it felt like an eternity passing by and all i could do was sit there and watch as time filled itself.
fifteen minutes was the difference between seeing my grandfather alive and not lying lifeless in a hospital.
fifteen minutes was the difference between being able to say goodbye,
and having that burning guilt in me knowing that i couldn't.
fifteen minutes was the thought of how i hadn't seen him in months, and now i wouldn't be able to even see him alive.
tears, agony, and pain were smeared all over that hospital room when i walked in.
tears flew down my cheeks and held no mercy and uncontrollable sobs fell through my lips.
we were all heartbroken in unision, like an orchestra with broken strings and instruments. ones that could not function properly.
i regret a lot in my short amount of time on earth.
i regret not being closer to my grandfather when i had the chance.
because that chance, has now spilled right through the cracks in my fingers, fell through the surface of the earth, and fused with his decaying body, six feet underground.
fifteen minutes isn't a lot of time, because the moment you take your eyes off the clock, you realize, fifteen minutes wasn't enough time to begin with. and even if you want more, time is irreplaceable.
