It's the end of the world as we know it....
Or maybe one week from the end of the world. The Mayans, with all of their superior intelligence, couldn't carry the one. Or something like that. I think there's a small part of me hoping for zombies. My ex had a theory about end of the world predictions and with the latest one coming up fast, I've been thinking about it. A lot.
His theory was that those predictions are not necessarily 100 percent wrong. Meaning that for someone, someplace, something happened that caused it to feel like the end. Fire, earthquake, death. It makes sense. My world ended in January and I'm still trying to figure out why/how the sun rises every morning. I've had friends that lost a partner this year, family that suffered through droughts and to each of them, in their own manner, that was the end. But for each of us, we slowly find a way to get up the next morning. There are mornings when staying in bed seems like the best option. But the bulldog wouldn't have that. For 11 months, he's gotten me to take the first step of the day, without realizing that some (most) days, the only step I've wanted to take is to pull the covers up higher.
I am meant to carry on, just as my friends and family are meant to carry on. We do it, not because we necessarily want to, but more because we need to.
