You’re still here, and that’s why

How many times have you almost killed yourself? That time ignoring the lights at the railroad crossing. That time you cut the power cord with scissors. That time you drove oh-so-drunk on your double date. That time you woke up doing 70 on the Causeway after a night in the French Quarter. That time you ran that stop sign and was broadsided and--amazingly--no seat belt. And a thousand other times you don't even know about, hidden by an few extra skewed seconds here or a few skewed after, altering the weave of that tangled web.

Do I need to go on? On and on and on? Do you think life is always smooth sailing? It takes a lot of work to create that.

You're an immortal being, but not here. Here you can die, foolish doppelgänger. It's the rest of you--me--who stops it each time, because you have important living to do, in spite of yourself. Who best to be your Guardian Angel, but yourself?

Don't you see? I'm always here to make certain you die of natural causes one day, after a life well lived. Then you can complete the only part of me that's missing--the mortal, the foolish, the vulnerable.