Lost in a time map

I dream of the day when I don't have to skype anymore, when all of my loved ones are around me, like a warm blanket.  I dream of this day knowing fully that it will never come, accepting that this place I am in now will be a place I will miss.  How does one live this way, already missing the present?  Lately, time moves so quickly I feel I can't see what's around me.  The world spins so fast I am already seeing what's to come in an hour, but it blurs with what's present before me.  I'm blinded, and I no longer try to focus my eyes.  What's the point?  It's been like this since I got here.  Staring at the calendar, hashing off the days as they pass.  Reviewing my journal, every page seems to reference time or waiting in some way.  The waiting isn't strange in and of itself.  What's strange is the fact that I waited so long to get here, that to get here and wait is absurd.  It's cruel, in fact.  One knows subconsciously  that the future also brings one closer to one's death.  So to wish an end to what one wished for is doubly depressing.  An end of the desire, a desire for the end. At the rate I'm going, which is at least one hour if not several months ahead of myself, pretty soon I'm going to start wishing for an end to the things I am still wishing for.  And where does one go from there?