I have reasons to believe my life is coming to an end. If not by illness, then maybe through my own hands. I may be wrong—I hope I'm wrong. And that's okay. It doesn't matter weather I'm really dying, what matters is what the thought of dying, of ending my life, got me thinking of.
Sure, there are many things I wish I could do. But I know that, even if I had more time, I probably wouldn't do it. I know myself well enough to acknowledge I'm not gonna get what I want out of this life. That's fine. The point is not what I would like to do, but what I have actually done with my life. And, honestly, I'm grateful.
I'm grateful because even though I haven't become a successful psychologist, I got to touch the lives of many people. Even if for a brief second, if it was enough to bring forth some change, then I consider my job done. And I know I have changed many people, even when they themselves don't realise it. It's okay. I'm not here for the fame.
I'm glad for the life that I've led. Sure, I wish I had my own house by the beach. I wish I could live to see plenty sunrises by the sea. But, at the end of the day, I'm just glad that I got to meet the people I've met, I got to have the conversations I've had, I got to grow and inspire and be there for someone, even if just for a little while.
But do you wanna know what I'm the most grateful for? The thing that makes me sleep at night thinking that, if this is it, I'm glad to go because I had the chance to have this in my life? Well.
It is the both of you.
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