Just some musings.

It’s unfortunate when told to live everyday like it’s your last, the only thing you can see yourself doing on your last day of life is staying in bed.  Is my belief that I am doing better really true?  If I were to die tomorrow, why would I not be gathering all of my loved ones and having a giant party?  What is it that makes me believe that if my death was imminent that no one would be there?  If I knew that tomorrow, my Willow was going to die, I would spend every waking moment I could with her; holding her, snuggling her, breathing in her scent as her long fur catches in my nose.  I would want her to know that my life was infinitely better because I had her.  Why does the possibility of my death mean less to me than my cat’s?  I’m sure that if I were to die tomorrow, that my loved ones would want to see me and say goodbye, yet some part of me thinks that my request to be around them would be met with contempt.  I don’t know where this comes from.  Is it from a lack of confidence or low self-esteem or is more that I have no self-worth?  Am I worthy in my own eyes?