One only misses being a denizen of reality once that becomes an abstract dream, and that is a problem. You fantasize about it now the way a prepubescent girl does about her prince. Your fantasy is to enjoy twiddling your thumbs on a bus again, to count bathroom tiles, even to visit the post office to discharge a meaningless errand. It is only from the vantage point of what could happen that you manage to do your living, and from this vantage point you claim that you value your life. The luror of what could happen spurs you to go on, while the meat of your life passes you by. So, can it rightly be said that such a person values their life?
You can understand religion now; "faith" is what there is when there is no hope.
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