i have had this feeling since i was a little girl that my life will be short.

that i will not grow old.

it isn’t a “maybe” or a “i suppose it could happen”; but more of an intrinsic knowing of my fate that cannot be changed.

i do not fear it.

i do not dread the eventual end of my days.

i am simply curious of the next chapter.

i wonder if the feeling of resignation and melancholy that’s been haunting my sleepiness nights indicates the silent approach of that tome.

how do i talk about it without scaring the ones i love?

i suppose i cant. so i’ll just write about it here.

perhaps i’m approaching the ledge.

perhaps that’s why i feel my smiles are bittersweet and my hugs are ones that linger just a touch too long. as if my soul knows its chapter here is coming soon to a close.

i wonder.

i close my eyes and wonder what it will be like.