Maybe it's Time.

Why does it hurt so badly to lose something you've worked so hard for? Worse still, why is it so much more painful to dread the day where everything disappears?

Maybe it's a toy. Or a job. Or a loved one. Or life.

Yeah, that's a good way to look at it. Imagine you've been diagnosed with late stage cancer.

"Sir, you only have 3 months to live. I'm sorry."

What are you sorry for? "Sorry" doesn't give me more time. Hell, stop trying to make it seem like you actually care, and give me some time to think things over. What will I miss?

I'll miss those greasy, gravy-drenched and cheese-blanketed fries we used to make together. Remember when we had poutine for the first time, and I managed to ruin packaged gravy? And who on Earth uses cheddar cheese for poutine? Everyone knows poutine calls for those weird white cheese curds. Nonetheless, you didn't try to help me with the ruined gravy; you laughed.

Ah, and how you manage to brighten the room with that pretty smile you have. God, it's like every time you're happy, I just have to be happy. What if I lost my job? The job would mean nothing to me as soon as you flashed that goofy grin of yours. But you know, with cancer and all, I wonder if I can be happy ever again?

I know I've got 3 months left, so I'll spend it with the people I love the most. No, wait, I'll blow all of my money and have the craziest will in history. Plasma screens for everybody! Perhaps I'll go skydiving for the first time in my life. Whatever it is, all I know is that I'm doing it to savour what's left.

Try one of those fancy clinical trials? Sure, I could try it, and who knows? Maybe it'll work. But what's the point? We're all limited in the time we have here on this planet, I'm bound to go under one day, it's inevitable. Hopefully they dress me up when they bury me, I'd hate to feel vulnerable when I'm...well, vulnerable.

Any day now can by my last. Oddly enough, it's only now, with little time left, when I try my hardest to actually live. It's like being a kid again, every day is an opportunity. Maybe not an opportunity in the sense that I get to see how many worms I can pull out of the ground, or how many times I can sneak Smarties from the cupboard without Mom noticing. Today's the day where I try to become a better man than I was yesterday. And tomorrow, it will be the same story. I'll get preoccupied with improving on my self worth...and I'll forget about the time. And on the day when I'm the best man I'll ever be, I'll collapse, and it will all be over.

Let's not just lie here and wait for the end to come. Get up. We're going to carpe diem the shit out of the rest of these days, and we can go down swinging.