When all my accounts are gone and I fall from earth, this is what I want you to remember from me: At the end of your days, what will you care about? You will care about the long hikes by the cliffs, by the ocean, a Sunday afternoon in November. Alone, lonely as could be, so lonely you cried a little but you did it, you did it anyway, you did not sit and wait for someone to appear magically like you waited for so many years you went and lived life anyway and you will be glad you did. at the end of your days, will you care about the money? will you care about the lack of money? Not as much as how you spent it. Did you spend it all? Good. I hope you did. I hope you spent it good on midnight taxis and books and satin dresses and I hope you went on some dates with quiet boys who never seemed to wonder about a lot. they nod and smile and talk about nothing in particular and at the end of your days, will you care about the numbers? the books sold, the plays on Spotify, the bank statement? No you will not. You will care about the first time you stared into someone’s eyes, seeing all the possible ways this can go and you will care about jumping head in, fearless, ready to feel every emotion to the fullest without holding on to any of it and when it’s time you will care about how well you let go. how gracefully you let go. how fast you let go.
– Charlotte Eriksson
