Now all the disconnected things seems to hook up. That's the funny thing about going away, knowing the date you're gonna die. It's like pulling away from the maze. While you're in the maze you go through willy-nilly, turning where you think you have to turn, banging into dead ends, one thing after another. But get some distance on it, and all those twists and turns are the shape of your life. It's hard to explain. But seeing it whole gives you some peace. I'm sorry for the pain I caused other people.
But I don't regret anything. Not a thing. I used to. I used to regret doing the mundane work I did for a living.
I don't know where I'm being taken. I don't know what waits for me, beyond the earth and sky. But I'm not afraid to go. Maybe the things I don't understand will be clearer there, like when a fog blows away.
Maybe she will be there.
And maybe there I can tell her all those things they don't have words for here.
Adapted from the film The Man Who Wasn't There