A Broken Promise

So, when did my body start to turn on me? I thought we were friends. That we had a bargain. That I would be a good caretaker. I began with pretty good genetics, then made sure to have plenty of rest, lots of exercise, no smoking, no drinking, no abuse, decent nutrition. OK, not perfect, but who is? In exchange my body would be a good and loyal partner and last, without much deterioration, for a long time. Be around and in optimal working order, for its age, when needed. Instead, I now get the vague sense that maybe it wants to move out sooner, that it’s beginning to fray at the edges, even perhaps abandon its promise, sneak off in the middle of some night and go elsewhere. But, where would that be? I mean, don’t we have to stick together?