I don’t wonder.
I don’t sit around thinking about what it would be like to be someone else, somewhere else, doing something else.
I understand the temptation.
But it’s fucking pointless.
Hell will be there.
Under all of the happiness you’re so convinced that other life would have.
If it wasn’t already there, you’d make your own.
You know I’m right.
Because you seem to have a natural talent for it.
We all do.
The angel on your shoulder? It’s you.
The devil … same deal.
So, have a good cry or a stiff drink and get ready to fight it out another day.
Be grateful for the love you’ve found (whether it’s here or gone already).
Get your shit together.
These days are finite.