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I barely started reading Seize the Night by Dean Koontz and found this passage that really makes sense. Here it is. (I'm pretty sure this is illegal, so don't tell anyone.)

This is about a guy with xeroderma pigmentosum (say that 5 times fast) or XP (no, not the OS) for short. It's a rare disorder that leaves people dangerously vulnerable to light.

I must exist in shadows, while you live under exquisitely blue skies, and yet I don't hate you. I don't resent you for the freedom that you take for granted--although I do envy you.

I don't hate you because, after all, you are human, too, and therefore have limitations of your own. Perhaps you are homely, slow-witted or too smart for your own good, deaf or mute or blind, by nature given to despair or to self-hatred, or perhaps you are unusually fearful of Death himself. We all have burdens. On the other hand, if you are better looking and smarter than I am, blessed with five sharp senses, even more optimistic than I am, with plenty of self-esteem, and if you also share my refusal to be humbled by the Reaper . . . well, then I could almost hate you if you didn't know that, like all of us in this imperfect world, you also have a haunted heart and a mind troubled by grief, by loss, by longing.

Rather than rage against XP, I regard it as a blessing. My passage through life is unique.

He continues

I am twenty-eight years old.

To say that I am living on borrowed time would be not merely a clich, but also an understatement. My entire life has been a heavily mortgaged enterprise.

But so is yours. Eventual foreclosure awaits all of us. More likely than not, I'll receive my notice before you do, though yours, too, is in the mail.

Nevertheless, until the postman comes, be happy. there is no other rational response but happiness. Despair is a foolish squandering of precious time.

And that alone made it all worthwhile.