It's really going to suck when I'm dead..

It's going to suck when I'm dead.

But not for me. I'll be dead. Things don't suck for the dead. 

For you. And only if you care about me.

If you care and I am dead, I'm sorry for whatever and happiness or pain I have caused you by dying. I can only assure you that it wasn't my plan and that I did my best to keep it from happening.

A lot of good that will do.

By the way, there's no special reason to think that it's going to happen very soon. Though it will happen. And sooner than I want it too. But, you know, that's life.

If everything goes according to plan, Bobbi will not be unhappy when I die. That's because I'm supposed to die last. In fact, I've promised. So when I die she'll already be dead. And dead people are not unhappy. Just dead.

I break that promise I'm certain she will be mad at me, even though I'm dead.

"You promised!" she might say, angrily. 

"Yes," I'd want to say, but of course won't be able to. "And I'm sorry. But being angry won't help. Besides, even though I'm imagining being sorry now, as I write this, I won't be sorry then. I'll be dead, remember?"

"Don't think you're getting off that easily!" she might say. Angrily.

My kids and grandkids will be sad too. And friends, too. And that's too bad. It's preventable, but only if I'm such a complete asshole that they'd all be glad I was gone. That's not part of the plan, either, and I think I can stick to that.

So, sorry. I'm going to die. And like I say, it's going to suck for you when it happens. 

There's only one thing that you can do, and that's to enjoy me while I last.

That's what I'm doing.