4th February

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Dear R,
Have you ever wondered about death? Such an eerie topic to start a love letter with. Wait, did I just give a name to my habitual writing to you? I don't mind. Do you?
I have been thinking alot about death lately. About how I'd prefer to die now than later when I'll have more reasons not to die, When I'll have formed unbreakable attachment to people who I wouldn't be able to imagine a day without.
About how it would feel. I do not know if there's a place we'll be sent to, after death, I do not know if we'll just vanish like ashes in the air. All I know is it'll be a feeling.
They say, It would be as if our entire lives would come flashing right in front of our eyes. But will it be so? Will we have enough time to think about the millions of memories, smiles, handshakes, cries, fights, loves and people we have met or will meet?
Will we know within split seconds that it would be the last time I'd inhale and the last time my RBCs would carry oxygen inside my body? The last time that my body would do it's biological activities and would suddenly stop like an engine of a motorbike? Would it be funny? Our last moment?
Would it ache? It would I think. Our hearts would ache for sure. Mine would.
You know, Ray, I'm a person of uncountable regrets. I regret not being there when my great-grandma died. More so because it's just me she remembered during her last days. I regret not being there when my best friend my Zoie died. I wonder if she thought of me in her last moment. Did she want to see me for one last time, Ray? I regret not standing up to my bullies when I was small, and even now when they say pretty mean things to me. I regret not getting to spend much time with people I love.
Worst part? I regret people I love getting married because, my man, marriage changes everything.
And the long list of regression goes on.
I'm sorry if I was acting too down-in-the-dumps type.
I won't. I promise. Unless I have another mood swing, I won't.

With love and all the feelings I can't spell.
A

With love and all the feelings I can't spell. Dove le storie prendono vita. Scoprilo ora