At 41 (I'm 42 in December), I have figured out at last what I want out of life. A comfortable home, enough food, a handful of good friends, and love. It's not that nothing else matters, but without these, you can't appreciate the other things anyway.
Coming home tonight from an evening spent laughing with L. until my ribs ached, the cool air and the car headlights shining through the night fog thrilled me with their beauty. The universe seemed in perfect balance.
The next time I have a woman waiting for me at home, I may even be alive enough inside to keep her love.