I've started living like I'm already gone. Clothes stay on the chair instead of the dresser. Books remain unfinished on the floor. I don't buy groceries that won't be eaten in three days. Everything feels temporary, suspended, as if I'm just passing through my own life. The calendar on my wall stays on last month's page. What's the point in flipping it forward when all days feel identical?

Fascinated, I watch people make plans for next year. How can they be so certain they'll still be here, still be themselves? Wanting the same things? I nod and smile when they include me in these future scenarios, but it feels like accepting an invitation I know I'll not attend. The question remains; how much of your future have you already surrendered? What would you do differently if you believed tomorrow is/was guaranteed?