Do you ever think about dying? What it would be like if you weren't around, who would cry and for how long? Which old flames would come out of the woodworks, which friends would decide not to show up to your funeral? What personal belongings would you want passed out among friends, and which items to whom?
Do you believe that in the end, we're all alone? Or are those who subscribe to that concept the ones that end up passing without a hand to hold? What is more painful, to die alone or to leave someone behind knowing they will likely die from the heartache of losing you?
Is love an imagined -or worse, a natural physical- response to positive stimuli? Is it just as easily lost as a cold or fever? Or is its impact upon our memories something that can never be forgotten? Will I hold a place in my heart for every person I've ever loved?
Does any of this really, truly matter? Perhaps not, but I'm certain of this: there is nothing like a fresh start.