If today were my last day, I wouldn’t waste a second on things that don’t matter.

I wouldn’t scroll through endless feeds, or bite my tongue out of fear, or keep putting off the dreams I’ve been “saving for later.” There is no later there is only now.

I would wake up and notice the morning light, really notice it. I’d feel the weight of my body in the bed, breathe in deeply, and be grateful for another moment to open my eyes. I’d make my coffee slowly, savoring the warmth in my hands, the smell rising from the cup. I’d call someone I love, just to tell them I love them. No small talk, no delay.

I’d forgive the people who hurt me, not because they deserve it, but because I deserve the freedom. I’ve carried some grudges too long, like stones in my pocket, weighing me down. Today, I’d set them down and walk lighter. I’d stop worrying about how I’m perceived and start living in the skin I’m in, without apology.

I’d do the thing I’ve been avoiding. The one that makes my heart race in equal parts fear and excitement. Maybe it’s starting that project, sending that message, or buying the ticket to somewhere I’ve only ever imagined. Failure wouldn’t scare me anymore; missing my chance would.

I’d pay close attention to every sound, every scent, every face. I’d see the way the sunlight hits the street, the way someone’s laughter fills the air, the way a stranger’s kindness lingers long after the moment passes.

I’d be generous. Not just with money, but with my time, my attention, my words. I’d tell people the good things I usually think but never say. “You inspire me.” “You make my life better.” “I’m proud of you.” The world doesn’t have enough of those words. I wouldn’t leave them unsaid.

If today were my last, I’d spend less time talking about what’s wrong and more time making something right, even in the smallest way. I’d plant seeds, literal or metaphorical, even if I never get to see them grow. Because what I do today still matters tomorrow, even if I’m not here.

I would laugh. Loudly. The kind of laughter that makes your ribs ache. I’d dance, even if it’s in my kitchen with the music up and no one watching. I’d eat my favorite meal. I’d watch the sunset and let the colors sink in like they were painted just for me.

If today were my last, I’d live it so fully that, when the night came, I’d have nothing left to give, because I’d have given it all. And maybe that’s the point.

Every day could be my last. So every day, I will wake up, breathe deeply, and choose to live. Not someday. Not when it’s convenient. Now.