Beyond Tomorrow

Waking up to sunshine or rain, I think into the day ahead. I see what I am having for lunch, and I look as far as dinner.
I think for tomorrow’s events, and anticipate what it will bring.
I can see maybe the day after, but not further.
My horizon is fuzzy, but I have a framework of my future planned. My future, the one fast approaching, not this weekend, not next week, the one two years down the line. The one that includes only me; where there is no one to give in to, no one to consider, only I.
I could never see beyond tomorrow’s tomorrow. Fear maybe. Subject to change with little notice, unpredictability was your middle name. My future has not you inside, I wait for the day I saw. Will not be tomorrow, or tomorrow’s tomorrow. Will not even been next month, maybe it will be the year after next. But it will be. Que Sera.