It’s scary trying to decide what I’m supposed to do with all that extra time. I mean, it could be days or months or years. What if I live to be one hundred? What if I only make it until the end of next week? Does everything in the middle become a waste, because there wasn’t enough time to finish what I’ve started? And what about things I don’t know the answers to? Like, what if I die before I ever play an instrument again? What if I die without knowing what my favorite hot dog topping is? What if I die before I ever have sex? Or before I figure out if I ever want to have sex?
The potential of life is terrifying. There's the possibility of depth or of shallowness. You could have forever or today. The not knowing can be paralyzing.
