What if it were all to end tonight? What if there was no tomorrow, no next day or next hour or next minute? What if that last interaction was the last greeting, the last goodbye, the last show of affection? What if there was no next chance, no opportunity to make it right? What if it were all to end right now?
Wouldn’t I trust that everything we’ve worked on up to this point has been worth it; that I’m not a recovering recoverer but have been in recovery all along – just a single, imperfect recovery, one that (when it is about just us) gives us everything we could ask?
Would I worry about that extra piece of chocolate and not want to throw it up or that I may or may not be gaining/losing body fat?
Wouldn’t I spend the extra twenty dollars to buy a book for a friend?
Would I care that the floors have specks of fluff on them from the blankets we used to stay warm last night?
Wouldn’t I take the time to appreciate how our cats always find the warmest spot in the house, even if it is on the top of the couch cushion, awkwardly teetering between falling amongst them and toppling off the couch?
Would the world feel as abusive, the people in it as cold, their flaws as hurtful?
Wouldn’t I leave the house with nothing but love in my heart, kisses on my breath and warmth in my soul?
Would I need to be the most exhausted at the end of the week, more so than is healthy?
Wouldn’t I take the time to ask myself: what did I do to find my happy today?
When I first heard the song, “Like You’ll Never See Me Again” by Alicia Keys …
If I had no more time
No more time left to be here
Would you cherish what we had?
Was it everything that you were looking for?
If I couldn’t feel your touch
And no longer were you with me
I’d be wishing you were here
To be everything that I’d be looking for
I don’t wanna forget the present is a gift
And I don’t wanna take for granted the time you may have here with me
‘Cause Lord only knows another day is not really guaranteed
So every time you hold me
Hold me like this is the last time
Every time you kiss me
Kiss me like you’ll never see me again
Every time you touch me
Touch me like this is the last time
Promise that you’ll love me
Love me like you’ll never see me again
… I was sitting at the shoulder press machine at the gym, and I cried. Tears came to my eyes thinking of the times I have not walked into my wife’s work when I needed to have her face brighten up my dismalness, stopped by the heartbreaking betrayal of the past. I ran in that day; that was the day I decided I was the one still suffering, that I was the one still victimized by the affair, and so I ran in and gave her a kiss, for me.
I heard it again driving to school today and it had the same effect, not making me question anything I had done particularly, but just a general view of things: what if the last time was the last time?