A dear one once muttered to me that I was preparing for death while the rest of the world lived their lives. She said it was what I was making plans for and why no one ever knew my secrets.

There might as well have been fireworks spewing out of her lips. My sadness transitioned into an epiphany and epiphany was my new favorite word, and I knew the exact shade of blue the sky was that day.

There were now explanations for the things that never had explanations: like why I never wanted to be in debt of any kind, why I always tied off the loose ends, why I never trusted or warmed or believed, why I never could make amends, why forgiving was what I did best and the ways of forgetting have been forgotten and so I would always remember.

"She's preparing to die, you see. Aren't we glad? that she won't be leaving her memories behind? Our shoulders won't bear the burden of her loss, oh that girl, she always was a mess."