As I watched him drive away yesterday I thought of my previous post and the concept of “future”.  I found myself wondering if I really like that idea. This is no reflection of him but rather on the quality of what we have now.

Living in the belief that this is finite I live in a state of appreciation. Each time I see him I consider myself lucky  to have had that time. Each moment is special. Each moment is precious.  I worry that if I replace the feeling of Us being finite, with a feeling of Us moving into the future that I will become complacent. 

I once believed I had a future with a man. I once thought that he will always be there. I once assured my self that there will be tomorrows and more I Love Yous.  Then death came suddenly and took him from me. We had no chance to say good-bye, no last kiss, no last moment of looking into his eyes and holding him. I are no more I love yous and no more tomorrows.

Why on earth would I believe in a future again? Why would I ever trust the universe again? No… I think each and every time I watch him leave I want to think it just might be the last time. I want each time I am held by him to be precious. Each time I look into his eyes I want to remember them, remember him. I don’t want to be elsewhere or preoccupied. I don’t want to assume that I will have a tomorrow with him, so I can squander today….because I very well may not have it.