Day 84

Dear Uterus,

I want to preface this by saying that I'm writing this in the least Emo way possible..

*ahem*

Ever since everything happened, I think about death, a lot.

Not in a dark and twisty way, but in an accepting way.

If you're anywhere under 60, it's probably not your favorite topic. You don't want to think about your death.

I'm 25. I don't want to think about dying for at least 90 more years. Nope, not  typo-- I'm gonna look awesome at 115.

Then, something like this happens and you realize. Holy crap... all those cliche movie moments can actually happen. Life is short.

Glen and I have only talked about the "what ifs" in very far off and non-decisive terms. Which means that had things have taken a different turn, he would have had no idea what I wanted.

I know it's a dark topic, but it's sooooo important.

Would I have wanted to be kept on life support 1 month? 3? What is the time where I'm comfortable with him saying-- "She tried."?

The moral of this one??

Life really IS short.

One second, one action, one event... it can change everything.

-Michelle