Ешь, молись, люби

Chapter 49

           OneofRob’spatientsalwaysaskshimthedateatthebeginningofeveryday,andattheendofthedaywillask,"Rob-whenwillitbeFebruaryfourthagain?"AndbeforeRobcananswer,theguyshakeshisheadinsorrowandsays,"Iknow,Iknow,nevermind…notuntilnextyear,right?"

           Iknowthisfeelingalltoointimately.IknowthesadlongingtodelaytheendofanotherFebruary4.Thissadnessisoneofthegreattrialsofthehumanexperiment.Asfarasweknow,wearetheonlyspeciesontheplanetwhohavebeengiventhegift-orcurse,perhaps-ofawarenessaboutourownmortality.Everythinghereeventuallydies;we’rejusttheluckyoneswhogettothinkaboutthisfacteveryday.Howareyougoingtocopewiththisinformation?WhenIwasnine,Icouldn’tdoathingwithitexceptcry.Later,overtheyears,myhypersensitiveawarenessoftime’sspeedledmetopushmyselftoexperiencelifeatamaximumpace.IfIweregoingtohavesuchashortvisitonearth,Ihadtodoeverythingpossibletoexperienceitnow.Henceallthetraveling,alltheromances,alltheambition,allthepasta.MysisterhadafriendwhousedtothinkthatCatherinehadtwoorthreeyoungersisters,becauseshewasalwayshearingstoriesaboutthesisterwhowasinAfrica,thesisterwhowasworkingonaranchinWyoming,thesisterwhowasthebartenderinNewYork,thesisterwhowaswritingabook,thesisterwhowasgettingmarried-surelythiscouldnotallbethesameperson?Indeed,ifIcouldhavesplitmyselfintomanyLizGilberts,Iwouldwillinglyhavedoneso,inordertonotmissamomentoflife.

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