You don't live even as a dream yet in my mind or heart. You are just an idea. An inevitability, like how growing old or buying a house or retiring is an inevitability. There is a recess of my mind where it seems obvious that one day I will not only think of you more, but you will exist. I'm not sure why. It's almost a primal part, the part that still wants to fight for life. That refuses to be brought down by all the things that can and do bring me down.
What's funny is I'm afraid I won't make it to that day. Either because my body will have given up on me, or I will have given up. Or I may live forever, and just never get to meet you anyways. That's not the funny part. The funny part is while I'm afraid I might not make it to that day, there's no doubt about how I will fare from that day on. From that day on my life will go from ending with my own inadequate life, to stretching onward towards the future. And the rest of the little time I'd have left, would be for you. Of that, I have no doubt.
See you then.
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