"Wait for me, my dearest!"

“Wait for me, my dearest!” — I no longer say it, I shout it.

But you don’t even turn around. You keep walking, head held high, seemingly indifferent to my voice. Your pride leaves me breathless. I know that everything obeys you — nature, people, the rhythm of life itself, even its cycles. You have always known your worth and never betrayed it. I admire that. No — not in a bitter way. I admire it because it’s a rare and beautiful sight to see the wind bow to you, the rain lean toward you, the sun wink playfully, and the blizzard caress you like the gentlest maiden on earth, tempting you with her soft, white, silken gown. Spring lays a green carpet at your feet. And still, you walk on — without looking, without caring. And they do not mind. They humbly serve you, devoted and silent.

I watch how the sea adorns your garments with amber, diamonds, and pearls — how its salty waves wash your face, as if trying to buy even a hint of your smile, however emotionless it might be. But… you simply kick aside a stone rolling under your foot and move on, ignoring your ever-changing, hypocritical companions.

I run breathlessly after you, believing — no, hoping — for even the slightest exception in your pride. But who am I compared to mighty nature — to her winds and sun, her seas and mountains? I am only a small girl with great dreams and restless ambitions. So, stumbling over the stones you have kicked aside, I keep running, desperate to catch up, to speak to you, to slow you down, to somehow befriend you.

I want to tell you about my dreams — the ones I’ve built and am still pursuing, so full of color and purity, demanding patience and focus to reach. I chase after you just to talk, to make you notice me — a tiny speck in this vast, complicated world. I call your name as I run. But you don’t hear me. You don’t want to hear. You move on, unwavering, concentrated.

I begin to slow down — gasping, exhausted from the chase. I’m short of breath, my strength slipping away. I watch you — fading into the dim horizon — and I lose hope. Hope that I’ll ever catch up, that I’ll ever walk beside you as an equal companion.

You move away without turning back, taking with you my unfulfilled dreams, my lost ambitions, mercilessly stealing the glow of my youth. And I no longer know — should I keep chasing, or should I turn around and go back?

Then — for a fraction of a second, which stretches into eternity — you stop. You turn toward me, wink teasingly, and motion with your finger:

“I won’t wait for you forever… Are you coming?”

And I leap from the stone, running after you once again. I have no right to fall behind. No right to stay aside. I must walk with you — on your path, at your pace. And I would, if only I could be beside you, if I could just hold your hand, if only I trusted you as much as I should…

But you don’t wait for me to catch up. You turn away and continue walking — neither too fast, nor too slow. The echoes of your steps synchronize with the ticking of the clock. Day turns into night, and you don’t pause for even a moment — for it is your steady walk that keeps the balance of our world intact. You go on, and with each step, you recreate the world — different, new, alive again. You are the ruler of all that exists — the one to whom even the universe itself bows.

And I run after you. And I always will. I’ll forever try to catch up — with you, who will never wait for me and never obey me, yet remain the dearest guide I’ll follow every morning and every night, counting the ticking of the clock hands, because within their echo hides the sound of your footsteps — the ones I’ll always find, should I ever lose sight of you.

“Wait for me, my dearest! Wait…”