Often I think that's it. The way I want things to be. My future life. Think this is gonna be my wonderful home. We can grow old like this. Together.
At good times I'm convinced of that. But sometimes the thoughts getting dark and sinister. Bonding is binding. I won't do it half-heartedly. I'm afraid of sharing my life. Losing my control. Relinquishing my independence.
And then I see you and everything lights up and I ask myself: Why are you hiding your life? It should be OUR life. OUR control. OUR independence.
Assuming the world would stop spinning in the next hours I would take you to the bar and dance. Share one last drink. Clink glasses. Feel you next to me. That would be feeling of being ready to face the end.