You can think about the future all you want.
You can distract yourself by thinking about raising some grandkids one day, you know? Little stuff like that.
You can muse over the irony of how you ended up falling in love with the world, after all.
The very same world you, as a twelve year older , were once convinced held no people who could love at all.
Then you look up into the sky. And you’re reminded.
Of other things.