Yesterday I spent my 12,045th day breathing on this earth and I know well enough by now that there will never be enough days for all the things I love.
There will never be enough days spent with my nieces, swimming in hotel swimming pools and having slumber parties for their birthdays.
There will never be enough days climbing until I can’t hold on anymore.
There will never be enough days to make things, to throw axes, to spend hours wandering through the shelves at Barnes and noble.
There will never be enough days to go hiking with my dog.
There will never be enough days to eat cupcakes over the kitchen sink so you don’t get crumbs everywhere on a cold night in early February.