The future is a scary thing. Even thinking about it makes some people shiver, it's so unpredictable, so unknown.
Even when you know what your future looks like.
To get the slightest glimpse of the future is something most people would die for, I already have.
I'd never felt more sadness in my life than I did after I died. It's like your falling down a deep hole, down down down you go until, you hit the bottom, but you're higher than you started, watching the earth below, crying out to the ones you love that you're still there, but they will never hear you.
The thought is terrifying.
It's even worse when it happens.
Dying quickly is different, or so I've heard.
You blink and you miss it. Darkness then light. Short pains like someone is constantly poking you with a sewing needle.
I wouldn't know though, I didn't die that way. As anyone would expect, the virus killed me, but not soon enough. I built relationships I knew would end, but I got caught up in the thought that someone out there loved me and thought about me.
Except that time my mom called me, but more on that later.
Over and over again, in my own little field of flowers, I run, the wind in my hair, birds singing the same old tune, the one from him.
And all was well.
But I'm getting distracted, I really should get back to the story, I'm sure you want to hear more.
All in good time.