I Keep Thinking I Have More Time
learning to live before life passes quietly by
This letter was written in April 2026 by a writer in our monthly anonymous letter exchange project, addressed to a stranger.
April’s prompt was “Write about what you’re avoiding—a conversation, a decision, a feeling, a truth. What happens if you stop running”
Letter 3
Lately, I think I’ve been avoiding the truth that I am growing older.
Just in small realizations like
songs from my youth becoming “old songs,”
seeing new lines on my face before I recognize the person looking back.
I keep telling myself I’ll start later.
Be braver later.
Rest later.
Live fully when everything finally feels settled.
But what if later isn’t promised?
What if the thing I’m running from isn’t aging at all,
but the understanding that life is already happening right now, as I hesitate.
If I stop running, I have to admit that time is moving whether I’m ready or not.
That I don’t get to wait until I feel young enough, certain enough, healed enough.
Maybe growing older isn’t loss.
Maybe it’s permission.
Permission to stop postponing joy.
To say what matters while my voice is steady.
To love my life as it is, not as it once was or someday might be.
I think what happens when I stop running
is that I finally arrive
exactly where I am.
And maybe that’s enough.
(This letter was shared here at the writer’s request.)
P.S. Each month, you’ll receive a writing prompt in your inbox. You’ll write, send your letter into the world, and receive one back from a stranger. It’s anonymous, honest, and unlike anything else in your inbox.
✉️ Ready to write yours?
With love,
Dear Stranger