Sometimes I'm not even paying attention when I cross the street. I could get him by a car or a bike. I stand and watch trucks go by – they're so big. They would hit me, I imagine, run right over me, crush me to death.
I wonder if I would die instantly or if there would be pain. I wonder if I would cry out and what and who's name(s). I wonder who would watch and who would stop and help if anybody.
I've been thinking that I'll grow old – but not that old. I wonder what I'll die of or if someone will be there with me. I wonder if I'll get ill and of what. I wonder if there'll be an accident, someone else's or my own. I wonder if it will be on purpose.
Right now I wonder how much longer I'll live. I wonder if I live longer if I'll get to do what I really want to do, if I'll get promoted, published, married.
I wonder sometimes if I'll have kids. If I'll move out of this city. If I'll change my address, my phone number, my email address. I wonder who will call, write, send me text message.
I've been wondering if I will travel like I once did. If I'll go somewhere I've never been. I wonder if I'll get a car or if I'll drive again. If I'll get another driver's license, another pair of shoes, a new pair of jeans, a new shirt.
I wonder what book I'll read next. What band I'll get into, what kind of person I'll meet next, or who I'll get close to, connect with.
I've been wondering if I'll ever see again the ones I've loved before. I wonder if I'll fall in love with them, again. If it will be like it was. If I'll feel like I did or different or nothing at all.
I don't want to die. I'm not going to harm myself. I want to love the one I'm with. Sure, I want to do better, be stronger, faster, smarter. So why do I think of such things while I'm waiting for the bus?