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I tell people I am. Mostly because I can’t stand to contemplate the reality of it. I’ve done more of that this past year than I can bear. When I do, I feel all weak and sick and like it will happen right then and there.

The End.

Done.

Over.

But, you know what? There are still important things that must be done. Like making him smile and his eyes shine because he knows I love him, and giving her panic-giggles because I am so charming (j/k), and blowing everyone away with my false accent, and touching noses with my cat because he is glad to see me.

So many important things.

Keep on moving. Keep on to the next time you can make a smile happen. On to the next time you can make someone laugh. On to the next time you can delight someone with a trick you learned for no good reason. On to the more purrs and more wagging tails.

And maybe, just maybe it’ll be true.

I’ve never died. I don’t know what it’s like. Maybe I’ll still be around.

Just…not like this.

But the ones who knew me will still know.
They’ll always know.

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