Today I found myself standing outside an art exhibit that I had been planning on going to see since I found out about it this past May. Every time I had thought about going earlier this year, there was some reason why I didn't. None of them are very good reasons.
Today was the last day of the exhibit. I stood alone outside the barrier and watched for glimpses of some of the paintings as they took them down and packed them away in boxes. I didn't see much.
I had wanted to see those paintings for months, but I let myself get distracted too many times. What I wanted in the moment overshadowed something that would have meant a lot to me. Seems like that happens all too often, doesn't it?
Why did I wait? Was it the idea of a better time, a better place, someone to share that with? Yes.
But in the end, all I had was a glimpse.