Maybe if I had a child? Or a relative that couldn’t survive without my constant care? But otherwise, I suppose my life will have to be worth living without someone else as an inspiration. I guess I’ll have to be the someone to make my life worth living. Which is sounds exhausting and silly and like some sort of inspirational book title: “Living For Me: A Fulfilled Life Through Complete Selfishness,” or some such.
There are a few people who make my life more pleasant because they are in it, but it’s a little melodramatic to suggest that without them, there would be no reason to go on. Also, in my experience, putting that much of your happiness/ purpose in another person’s hands is dangerous. Call me a cynic. I am a bitter old broad. But people come and go. And in my count, especially lately, a lot more of them go than stick around.
Surly much? Well, it is Monday.