Being a time traveler isn’t as glamorous as people think. It’s not all grand adventures and heroic missions. Sometimes, it’s just lonely.
I’ve seen the world before it knew itself — when cities were forests and silence reigned. I’ve stood on the edge of futures that might never come, where machines hum like gods and humanity forgets its name. Each leap through time offers something breathtaking, but every visit comes with a cost: nothing stays.
I don’t belong anywhere. I’m always either too early or too late. I watch people build lives I can’t stay to be part of. I see moments unfold with the bittersweet knowledge that they’re already memories — even as they happen.
But I keep going.
Not for glory. Not even for answers. I time travel because I can’t stop wondering what if. And maybe that’s what we all do, in a way — reliving the past in our minds, dreaming of possible futures, chasing time we’ll never fully catch.
So if you see someone staring a little too long at an old photograph or pausing at a moment the rest of the world rushes past — be kind. Some of us are just passing through.
Shane higdon 