In 2018, I moved to South Beloit, Illinois, and I met a girl there about my age, by the name of Michelle. I cannot recall exactly how we met, but I can surmise that we had similar interests through things like religion and philosophy, and found one another through social media. I admit that I was sexually attracted to her, but at first it was just a friendship ordeal, which I had no problem with.
The more we talked, the more we liked each other, and one day we decided to meet for lunch. It was one of those things that was a date, but also was not, if that makes sense. We were there to have fun with each other, yet there were no romantic titles or intentions. But in any case, I was delighted to just spend the day with a beautiful girl who was my friend.
The more time we spent together, however, the closer our lips got until we kissed. So it was one of those beautiful things that people write about in poems and love stories. It didn't seem like it would go any further than just an affectionate friendship at most, but nevertheless, I could only find enjoyment in her presence. But I would have never imagined in a million years that it would be the last time I'd ever see her, because she suddenly died later that year. As far as I know, she didn't have any other male friends of the romantic type, so it's possible that I was the last man she ever kissed.
In fact, her death happened so suddenly that I didn't even have time to make preparations to attend the funeral, which I still brood over to this day when I think about it. It was one of those experiences that blows you away, leaving you in shock and disbelief, sometimes even for months or years to come. Whenever I am passing through South Beloit these days, I still drive by the restaurant where we spent our last day together, and simply look at it, not as a painful memory, but as a testament to a truth that I will now explain.
I tell this story sometimes in my speeches on life and living without regrets, because every single day I see people all around me that are letting the clock tick by. They're so consumed by social norms, personal fear, or the delusion that they have plenty of time. Each day is a countdown, every second that goes by, you can never get back. I can still close my eyes and feel her kiss, and it's no longer a romantic feeling, but a wakeup call, that every day is a gift.
The Gods gave you life for a reason, and the common sense to not waste it. One day Death will come for you. One day Charon will extend his hand for your coin, and it'll be too late. No amount of crying or pleading will turn back the clock. You're not meant to live in fear, you're not meant to micromanage life, and you don't have plenty of time; you're meant to live and live now.
In the Goodness of the Gods,
I'll see you at the next Herm down the road,
Chris Aldridge.
And consider subscribing to my site by bookmarking it by clicking on the star in the top right corner of the web bar.