11:12

every time i look at a clock it’s 11:12.

it was like every clock within my reach of vision was stuck.

like sza said “all i got is these broken clocks.”

stuck in time, i saw it all.

11:12:47, 11:12:26, 11:12:01.

i always found myself a mere seconds too late to The Time.

you know, the time of hope. the time of dreams. the time that makes everything feel like it makes sense.

11:11.

according to the slang dictionary of dictionary.com, 11:11 is a time of luck due to the repeating nature of the number. other sources claim it is a sign of being in touch with your intuition. of cosmic enlightenment (a characteristic of repeating numbers in general). over time this belief has evolved into a time of magic. as such, people use the time to make a wish. with this, 11:11 finds itself shared with the blow of a dandelion, the wisp of a shooting star, and the ever elusive birthday candle.

my relationship with the time of 11:11 is almost a metaphor for every other area of my life.

almost.

I have always been almost. The almost.

every time i’m almost there, i’ve just missed it.

of all the “talking stages,” of the internships, of the schooling.

of all the goals and dreams

and everything in between.

do you know how frustrating it is? to be told you Just missed it.

when someone tells you, i really like you, i like being with you, but you’re just not enough for me. or, Conversely, you’re just a little too Much for me

or the internship of all internships you were too much for one year and not enough for the next

or when you make it to the parking lot 2 minutes after closing.

it hurts. it would make me question. but that was until

a weekend of time’s past.

i had a situation of 12 minutes. 12 minutes of time between me and somewhere i thought i was meant to be. as my gut dropped out of the car, i felt my heart pound as i raced time and human nature. i had to make it. i had to be there. i needed to get it. The Big It. something i had been seeking for so long. but there was this feeling, this tiny voice that said i wouldn’t make it. a bigger voice telling me to try.

Then i arrived just within 12 minutes.

12 minutes too late.

as i stood to the back, my head flooded and my face flushed. silently, i watched the wooden deck in a daze that seemed to last forever. as my lines of thought morphed into words, i realized

i wasn’t supposed to be there 12 minutes earlier. i was supposed to walk through that door at the exact moment i did. i was supposed to just miss. i and this. our seconds didn’t translate to the same minutes, our ticks following a different beat. it was my 11:12.

i was right on time.

my time.

in that moment, i realized, i am exactly where i need to be.

it was overwhelming, mind reeling. i can’t think of a time of which it was more clear.

other than, perhaps,

the next day.

that morning, i decided to clean out my car. throwing out the various energy drink cans, windexing the windows, brushing the teeth of the crevices- the whole ten yards. hours go by within my meticulousity and i happened to go inside to use the bathroom. on my way back outside, i stopped by my phone and watch on their respective chargers and it read

11:11

it was 11:11.

the covet time, i have found.

it had found me.

the morning after that evening, nonetheless.

i went about the next couple hours almost warm. it felt like some sort of confirmation. that it wasn’t the ramblings of an ever-overactive mind.

when i finished, i went back inside to get ready, because i was going to take myself to see a movie. as i settled into my seat, i took a mental note of how nice it was. just to be there with myself.

afterwards, i get in my car and immediately plug my phone into carplay and kanye’s “off the grid” starts blaring at playboi carti’s verse, just where it left off before i got out. i took off my sweater i put over my tank top (for the sake of movie theater temperatures, of course) and look down to check the time

4:44

i’ve always known there was a significance to repeating numbers, as according to numerology.

what exactly?

before this, i wasn’t exactly sure. i just knew it was something good.

i googled it and this is what it said.

“You are exactly where you need to be.”

i literally sat there for full seconds, in complete and utter shock. there were so many coincidences in a mere 24 hour span, i couldn’t believe it.

… would you believe me if i told you that wasn’t even the craziest, or best, part?

a mere hour later, i found myself in one of my dearest friend’s drive ways, her favorite coffee in hand. she had had a rough day- just one of those sundays- and i was determined i was getting her out of the house. as she trudged inside with a hidden smile on her face, i sat in my car going through social media.

as i approach the app of yellow, i scroll sideways to see of who i’d like to see. one name caught my eye and i remembered she was on a trip with her dearest to the beach. i clicked upon the story and started crying.

at a bar in bradenton, a cup branding the words in black, bold cursive writing against a background of sunset colored alcohol at sunset-

“You are exactly where you need to be.”

i watched it over and over. once again not believing my eyes, now slowly puddling with the ocean.

it was just so reassuring, ya know?

how everything just happened to work out that way.

the timing of it all.

it didn’t just end that following night, though. it’s a pattern ive seen progress here now even months later.

i’ve seen 11:11 or 4:44 at least every other day since.

i acted on impulse.

i felt it all in my gut.

i followed my intuition.

intuition.

what is “intuition” exactly?

according to the essential meaning shared by dictionary.com, intuition is “a feeling that guides a person to act a certain way without fully understanding why.”

it reminds me of growing up, hearing the phrase, “follow your gut!” being thrown around.

as a kid riddled with anxiety-causing stomach ulcers, i was wary of mine. it caused me enough physical pain as is, i didn’t need emotional piled on top.

i can think of so many instances in my youth, adolescence, and early adulthood of which i Knew it.

i just Knew it in my gut.

“it” varying from the right answer on a test that i second guessed myself on to- even once- a near accident.

but i didnt trust it.

and i’d end up being right, each and every time.

this isn’t to discount “feelings aren’t always fact.” because sometimes, our brain is liable to think irrationally.

we creates these romanticized or melodramatic scenes in our heads that couldn’t be further from reality.

but, i think we have this for a reason

this ability of intuition.

i mean, apart from the concept of the abstract being one of the most defining features of humanness, it’s the feeling that is accompanied.

that “gut” feeling, evolving from the survival instinct. except now, rather to fend from the unknowns of the wild, it is to fend from the unknowns of time

unknowns of ourselves

unknowns of others

i don’t think i believe in coincidences anymore.

in cartoons, when the character steps away just before the piano drops.

in reality, when people have called into work only hours before tragedy. 

it’s for a reason.

i don’t know the reason. i don’t think i ever will, but what i Do know is

it’s all connected,

We are all connected in this journey of life.

moving at our own ticks, always exactly where we need to be.

for if we weren’t, then we wouldn’t be living Our lives. rather that of another

so next time you get that feelings

that thought.

listen closer

act

 : even if it seems impulsive.

it might just finally show you that you are exactly where you need to be. as bright as those red LED alarm clocks.

of the almosts,

it was never to be in that time, in that place of the clock. it wasn’t meant to fit within no more than the two bolded of 5.

of the circles of full,

maybe it just takes a few more revolutions. perhaps you and the almosts approach your 4:44 at the same tick of 11:11.

but for the time being,

trust yourself. trust your intuition.

treasure all of the 11:11s,

even your 11:12s.

because they just might be Your 11:11s in disguise.