Morbid, Morbid, Morbid

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I don't know if it's because I am getting older, or what, but I find myself increasingly obsessed with mortality. Not my own, mind you, I am never going to die, but that of those around me.

In particular, that of my wife. If she's late home from somewhere, it's snowing, and she does not have her phone with her, I spend every moment worrying that she has been in an accident, and is now dead.

When I have nothing else on my mind, rather than running "Peter's Theme" from Peter and the Wolf over and over in my head, as I normally would, I will find myself thinking about how horrible it would be to lose her.

I really have no idea what has brought this on. I mean, it's not as if she's in any more danger than she was last year when she leaves the house. It's also not as if it would have been less horrible to lose her last year.

I'm just thinking about it more, and about how much she means to me.

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1 Comment

I remember doin' tha same thing aboot you a little while ago.
Don't worry it'll pass...

*smooch*

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This page contains a single entry by edgore published on March 2, 2004 4:52 PM.

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