The Leaks We Live With

It started with a surprise, not the kind anyone wants.

When the water bill came, my heart dropped. The number was too high to make sense. I thought maybe it was a system glitch, or a wrong reading. But then my landlady and I checked the water meter together, and there it was, spinning slowly even when every faucet inside was off.

That quiet, steady movement said it all: somewhere, water was escaping.

We looked around, under the sink, behind the bathroom, along the pipes, but found nothing. The leak stayed hidden, invisible but costly. So now we wait for the plumber, hoping the drip finds its way to the surface soon. In the meantime, that little dial outside keeps moving, counting every drop we didn’t use.

And somehow, that’s what frustrates me the most, not just the higher bill, but the helplessness of watching something valuable slip away for no good reason.

But as I stood there, staring at that spinning meter, I realized something quietly painful but true: life leaks too.

Sometimes, it’s not water but energy that drains out of us. Or time. Or love.

We try so hard to hold things together, our routines, our patience, our hope, but somehow, something always finds a crack. It might be a broken appliance, a misunderstanding, or just exhaustion. There’s always something to repair.

And I wonder sometimes: is this what life is about?

A series of fixes, of pipes, plans, and people?

Because it seems like just when one thing stops dripping, another starts. And we move from one repair to the next, wishing for stillness but always finding another leak that demands attention.

Yet maybe that’s exactly what living is, learning to find calm between the repairs. Learning that fixing isn’t failure; it’s faith. Faith that what’s broken is still worth our time, that what leaks can still be saved, and that there’s beauty in trying again no matter how tired we get.

The leaks we live with remind us that nothing, not pipes, not plans, not even hearts, stays perfect forever. But they also remind us that we can endure imperfection, that we can survive small losses and still find peace after the dripping stops.

So yes, I’m frustrated. I hate that something’s wasting what I worked hard for. But maybe this too is part of it, the messy, leaky truth of living. We don’t always know where the water is going or why. We just keep fixing, waiting, and believing that someday soon, everything will hold steady again.

And if you’re reading this, staring at your own kind of leak, whether it’s a bill you didn’t expect, a plan that fell apart, or a heart that feels tired, I hope you know this: you’re not alone.

You’re doing your best. You’ll find the source, and you’ll fix it in time.

And when you do, you’ll breathe again, lighter, calmer, stronger.

Life after the misses and messes, we’re still living, fully.

Even with the leaks we live with. - MESSY E.

💌 Subscribe to Miss and Mess
A journal of reflections, resilience, and the quiet power of living through life’s misses and messes.
Scroll below and hit “Yes to the Mess” — and never miss a post.