Like the Fool, I began this life feeling strangely empty and profoundly sad as if I had already lost something. I have no prediction to how it will end, but do believe my truth will be found when I get there.
I am a hoarder of moments, of words and photos and status updates. I'm not sure if I'm letting go so that I can move forward, or so that I can finally be at rest. Death has taken hold and isn't letting go - 12 people in 12 months was only the beginning. I'm tired of the fight, of the grieving and the recovery that never has a chance to happen.
I'm ready for it to be over.
My life was to expire at 43 years of age. My Intuition said so, and she's never wrong.
Interpretation is everything.