“I’ve come to realize,” she said, “it doesn’t matter who goes. I used to think, God, if this person dies, or if that person dies, I am out. I know now, it won’t change anything. This is my life to live, no matter who dies, no matter what happens.”
I don’t have to keep going.
I get to keep going.
Every day I wake up is one more day that I will experience that all who have left cannot see.
I don’t have Pollyanna optimistic expectations for life. I have seen terrible things, I’ve lived through awful times and been faced by (what seemed like) impossible obstacles.
I don’t sit around thinking how awful life has been. I still see the sunlight in the morning. I still sing. I chase my goals and aspirations. I stand up to my fears and I face down my negativity.
A lot has changed. I can’t live in a haze anymore, I can’t dive to the bottom of a bottle every time I want to, I can’t go tilting at windmills or ride off in search of adventure, but…
Goddamn am I loved.
I’m not talking about anonymous love, not a superficial appreciation for something I do, I’m not saying this with one gram of hyperbole,
So many beautiful people love me with genuine and sincere depth.
I love so many people without limits, without reservation.
Distance and finances keep us in our own sections of the world but the love flows, a raging river of emotion connecting my mind with others.
I don’t have to keep living,
I get to.
(and tonight, the anniversary of the last night of my sister’s life, I miss her. I know she would be proud of me.)