Why?
If I had no pride at all, that’s what I’d ask
Why aren’t you here with me? Why did you leave? Why did you give up? Wasn’t what we had worth it? Wasn’t I worth it?
These are the questions that I will never have answered. I hate myself for even asking them. Even after all this time, I find myself falling down this rabbit hole when the day has been a little too long and I wish I could give you a call. I guess that’s to be expected. I am only human.
As I sit here on my couch alone, thinking about life and what’s really important, trying to still my mind, it occurs to me that my time is running out. Of course, the hourglass was tipped the moment I was born and the sand has never quit rushing away, but now it feels more urgent. The end is not so far in the future anymore.
I think about the fact that even if I continue to have the luck not to be run over by a bus, or contract a fatal disease, and even if remain in good health for the rest of my life, I have likely already passed the halfway point quite a few years ago. And when looked at from this shortened perspective, there’s a bunch of shit that no longer seems so important.
Things like pride. Things like petty disagreements about who should do this, and who should give up that. Things like being too stubborn to admit you were wrong. Or being too proud to call and say “I love you”. I…
