What if forever is just tomorrow? And what if our always is just one more day?
I think about that not even just sometimes, but all the time. I am worried and I am anxious, and with death and pain as the daily headline of almost every paper and news outlet I see, well, it’s certainly not helping. I want a future for me, for us, for what we would share. But do you know how easily all of that can just disappear? What if tomorrow never comes, or what if tomorrow is the last one of those left?
Whenever the phone rings in the middle of the night — and with all the time zones I juggle that happens more than I’d like — I take a beat to prepare myself. What bad news is on the other end? Who have I lost? What is about to turn my world upside down and was so urgent that it had to happen in the middle of the night? Thankfully, so far, the fear dissipates as soon as I hear the “omg I’m so sorry I forgot, time difference” on the other end. I breathe the tiniest sigh of relief. Next time the phone rings, I go through it all again.
What if forever is just tomorrow? And what if our always is just one more day? When it’s late at night and the intrusive thoughts won’t go away, I make lists. I write letters. I have a whole stack of them buried underneath random trinkets and memories and, well, stuff in a drawer. You’ll never read them. Or maybe you will if tomorrow is all we’ve got. Those nights when the intrusive thoughts seem to win, I write it all down. The things I want to say to you, the little and big apologies I think I still owe you, the many ways you’ve changed me, changed the way I see the world. I love the way you do, the perspectives I probably never would have gotten familiar with otherwise. The many ways, I wouldn’t be the same if you had never come into my life.
What if forever is just tomorrow? And what if our always is just one more day? Well, it’s one more day you’ve changed my life. And if forever truly is just tomorrow, well, then tomorrow I’ll love you always.