The ticking of the clock

Memories float in my mind like sailboats on still water without a breeze. I always think what if...would it have been different. I long for lifetimes I never had, changes I never made and choices long since forgotten. So many photographs held in my mind like old worn snapshots that sit in a shoebox at the back of the closet. Only I seem to take mine out and shuffle through them more frequently than the average horder. Growing up I never realized my mind would be like one of those old movie reels without sound. A smile here on a beautiful face, a tear trickling down another. Emotions can overwhelm me, fear, love, happiness, longing. I feel like something is lost to me and the clock continues to tick down the seconds while I stand still unmoving and unable to figure out what it is I have lost, or have yet to find. The well is a mile deep and the way down is jagged and wet and cold and miserable. I hope there is a clear spring with a beautiful waterfall awaiting me at the bottom of my well. The journey is so long and all I can hear is the ticking of the clock.