Metaphorical swings and such like rubbish.

I have spent the weekend with Nick, who has been nothing but perfect in distracting and helping me cope with recent events. I am glad he was here to make me feel better.

Anyway, the blog title wouldn't make much sense if I didn't blog about the title now would it? So here goes...

As I was walking back from walking Nick to the bus stop I stopped by the park at the bottom of my hill and sat on the swing for five minutes. Every time I took one swing I was wasting a second or so of my life, but I couldn't stop. The more I swung the more I thought about wasting my life away in various ways. One being on the swing in the first place of course, another thinking about things that haven't even hit yet. Another waste is lying, that's got to take up sixty or seventy swings of my life right there. And another crime I am guilty of is not telling people how I feel, this wastes another maybe hundred or two hundred swings of my life when I do it, and I do it a lot. So this is about a thousand swings a week I am wasting away. The more I thought the more I seemed to think that life would be easy if I could spend it all on that swing, swinging my life into nothingness and not having to deal with any recent events. But then I realised that maybe this is not the case. The reason I miss Ernie is not because he sat swinging his life away, but because he was a good person who spent his time helping people, and yes maybe he swung some of it away, but I am just happy I can be proud that he was sensible enough not to waste the time he had and I wish I had got to him before it was too late to tell him that I loved him.

See, now here I go again, blogging wasting more swings, and crying wasting more.