40 years was enough time

When I think over it all, I’d put my all into things I cared about. I didn’t always (or even often) go about them the right way, but I really tried. And I was good at some cool things.
I lived my own life instead of mimicking someone else’s or following what others thought I should do. There’s that.
I learned a lot. I lived with integrity.

I keep getting asked by people in my life if I have a bucket list. No. I did enough. I’m tired now. There’s nothing left here. None of it interests me.
They want to make a bunch of memories while there’s still time, and it annoys me greatly because I’m getting so tired. They had all those years to make memories. When is it enough?
But I understand that they need this to cope, and it’s cruel to try to deny people that just because they had the opportunity to hang out while I was healthier (and rarely took that opportunity).
It’s over. It’s fine. I’ve had more than enough time.