The day after tomorrow I will be 34. You see, my clock is still ticking. While his stopped at 33. He will be forever young – in memory. I’ll maybe get old (who knows what’s my life span going to be), get wrinkles, my eyes will fail, and those innumerable inconveniences that come with old age will plague me. But he’ll be forever 33 – always a strapping young man at the prime of his health.
Will you look down on me and notice the wrinkles G?
He always said it didn’t matter to him how I looked – fat, thin, dressed up, unkept. For him I was always beautiful. But then, we were growing old together – the first white hair, the first wrinkle, the beginnings of a paunch. We were in this together you idiot! Didn’t anyone read the contract to you?
It’s actually so strange that he had this conversation with a cousin – a few weeks before he died. His cuz found a pic online – a part of an ad campaign – that looked exactly like G; just an older version. And he told his cuz “Wow! this is me 20 years from now”. Well – where are you now!
I want my companion in old age. You better get your ass back here!