I Delay the Things I Love Most

Dear Delyara, The things I care least about, I can do quickly. The things that matter deeply, I approach slowly, cautiously, almost ceremonially, as if the right beginning might save me from the wrong ending. I draft. I rethink. I polish. I “wait for the right time.” I gather more information. I imagine how much better I’ll do it later when I’m calmer, clearer, more confident, more protected from humiliation. But underneath all that refinement is fear. Fear of being seen wanting. Fear of trying and staying ordinary. Fear of discovering that longing is larger than outcome. So I delay. And delay looks so respectable that even I can mistake it for wisdom if I’m not careful.