First of all, don't freak out. You're talking to a dead person- just like you probably are whenever you pick up a book written before 1950. I'm one of them now- I'll never get to tell you what I think about what happens tomorrow.
I don't really mind. I am happy and while I would have enjoyed all of the tomorrows, I enjoyed today. I tried my hardest to live every single day in every single day, not in any tomorrows. So don't feel sorry.
I am sorry though. If I have one regret right now, it's that my passing makes you sad. (Unless you had a tomorrow thing that you needed me for. That wasn't very smart, and I hope you learned from that.) So somehow I died- that's like if we were walking together, like we do, and an old friend came up and slapped me. I know the man, I forgive him. Don't be vicariously angry, or touch your own cheek in pain.
I hope I don't die anytime soon, but as a precaution I thought you should hear. I was never much for social norms that weren't any good. I'm dead. Get over it. I love you.
...yes, you.
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