sean

You take for granted what you have until you don't have it anymore.

I don't. Not me. I appreciate it now. I'm not like you. I'm still happy I didn't die that day, you know, that day in the dessert when you were driving the truck.

Every single day since then has been a reprieve. Those perceived injustices fail to disrupt the serenity of oxygen diffusing across my alveolar membrane into my pulmonary capillaries. Your unwarrented misery, your directionless anger, your implacable frustration, none of it can stop me from breathing in this moment, slowly - now, savoring it in my lungs.

I'm not like you. I'm happy just to hold you for the moment, even though I know you're already pulling away in that truck.

I know I could have been something more. I know I could have done something great. But in the end I'll just relish that i'm doing something. Somebody check the gate.

All clear.