She gets to wake up, stretch out her limbs, and turn over and smile. She gets to rise in the morning next to you. She gets to talk with you, about your hopes and your dreams and goals and your fears. She gets to understand you. She gets to walk with you, by your side everyday holding your hand. She gets to witness the beauty of the world with you. She gets to hear your stories, your simple tales of each day that passes by. She gets to laugh with you, and cry with you. She dance with you, drink with you, eat with you. She gets to live and love life with you. She gets to be loved by you, unconditionally. She gets to be the one, that person you’re afraid to lose.

She gets to be lucky. And she is not me.