When you read that title, did you hear it sung in Paula Cole’s voice?

If you’re a certain age, you probably did. That theme song from Dawson’s Creek has a way of living rent-free in our collective memory — full of longing, full of urgency, full of that quiet ache about time moving faster than we expect.

The song has been playing in my head again recently.

Not because I’ve been rewatching old episodes.
Not because I’ve fallen down a 90s nostalgia rabbit hole.

But because of some recent news that made me pause.

When someone connected to your youth — even just culturally — is suddenly gone, it has a way of rearranging your perspective. It reminds you how quickly chapters close. How time doesn’t wait for us to feel ready.

And that lyric keeps echoing:

I don’t want to wait.

Not to write the thing.
Not to start the project.
Not to try the idea.
Not to become the person I keep saying I’ll grow into “someday.”

Because here’s what I’m realizing:

Waiting feels safe.
Waiting feels practical.
Waiting feels responsible.

But waiting is also how dreams quietly expire.

We tell ourselves we’ll start when the moment is right — when the schedule clears, when the kids are older, when work slows down, when we feel “qualified enough.” We assume the perfect opportunity is coming.

But perfect is a moving target.

And life doesn’t pause while we polish our plans.

None of us knows how much time we have. That’s not meant to be dramatic — just honest. We live as if “later” is guaranteed, but it isn’t.

So maybe that song isn’t just a nostalgic anthem from the late ’90s.

Maybe it’s a reminder.

Time is moving.
Chapters are closing.
Opportunities are seasonal.

If not now… when?

So write the page.
Take the class.
Start the project.
Pitch the idea.
Book the trip.
Make the art.

Don’t wait for the perfect moment.

Create it.

And if this stirred something in you, I’d love to hear it — what’s one dream you’re done postponing?