a perfect and happy death

now I'm about to die. Every night I wondered what my death would be like, and I now that feeling it it just makes me want to live, I wanted to get up and do the things I always wanted to do, but it was too late. maybe I'm dying heroically or cowardly, but I'm not sad, I'm happy because I don't die sadly, because the last thing my eyes saw was his face, the last smell I lingered on was her perfume, the last touch I had was that of his hands, the last thought I had was him, I dedicated my last tear to him. so, I didn't have a sad death. I had a perfect and happy death.