I Can't Wait

I meant nothing to them,
Like they meant nothing to me,
So why do I
Find myself so late at night,
Striving to recall these
Decadent tales
and fairytale stories
That weren't so pretty
As much as they were gory.
My life has been an ode
To these,
Will it be the same in death?
What will I think as I take my last breath?
For I hope to someone
That it will not be them
and by then,
I would have something better
To remember than love letters
That were never even sent,
and wasted time spent.
Ah, but all is well, anyway,
For I can, at least, have faith in the day
I won't have to consider
Or reconsider
Anything.