I might be dead.
Maybe it was from illness. Maybe it was an accident. It could have been by my own hand. Anything is possible.
If you’re reading this, please take care of my plants. Water them, but not too much. Sing to them sometimes.
If you’re reading this, tell my sister I love her. Tell my son I’m proud of him. Tell my ex we gave it a good try and no hard feelings.
If you’re reading this, I’m almost definitely dead. Because if I’m not, what the bleeding hell are you doing rooting around in my knicker drawer?!