I look around me and think, there are the choices I've made. The people I've loved. No matter how fleeting this was, I need them to believe everything mattered. This life was enough.But it's not true, of course.Nothing will add up to enough. I wish someone has told me that the end of a life is a complex equation. Years dwindle into months, months into days, and you must count them. All my dreams and bedtimes with a boy in dinosaur pajamas must be squeezed into hours, minutes, seconds.How should I spend them?

No Cure for Being Human by Kate Bowler