When I’m on my deathbed, and my death rattle is ringing out to all four corners of the room, behind my dying eyes, it shall be you I see. When I’m fading away like someone else’s dream, it shall be your smile that takes me to the great beyond, because no one else has ever moved me in quite the same way you have. On a lake of frozen ice, you’ll be dancing with the swans and ducks that slip and slide at your feet, and when you pull me close, the taste of your lips and your hot breath on my neck shall be the last things I know before non-existence becomes my everything. And it’ll happen, one day, someday, most likely when I’m least expecting it, too. It’s the same for all of us, and yet how petty we are by pretending death is the business of others and not our own. How stupid we are thinking that we’re somehow above it when in reality, our fates are no more protected than that of an ant’s. Those doors, you’re behind every one. These visions, you stir them all, and even though I wish you weren’t so fundamental to everything I do, I count myself blessed that a soul like yours chanced upon a soul like mine. Yeah, there’s more misery than joy, and yeah, there’s more conflict than safety, but for your embrace, I will suffer. I will suffer in the same way I’ve suffered in the quest to write words that might or might not mean something to others. For all this hardship, I will continue pushing the boulder up the mountain knowing full well it will end in defeat. For all the pain and silent despair, I will continue to seek you out knowing you’ll elude my arms until the very end because this is how it was meant to be.