Every once in a while I remember that I will die one day, that one day I will no longer walk this earth, that one day, I’ll be buried in a wooden box where I will remain for all eternity, and I literally get so scared that I have a panic attack.
I sobbed myself to sleep last night because I became aware again of the fact that I was going to die one day. It came on because my fiance was being sweet to me, and almost like a punch in the face I realized that it would come to an end. One of us was going to leave the other behind, sooner or later. The thought is overwhelming, crushing… utterly crushing…
A voice, my inner voice or my other identity, spoke to me. Reminded me that I was eternal, regardless of what belief system I held. My energy could not be created or destroyed, just changed. I had always been matter and I always would be. My atoms served purpose before and would go on to do so after. I would become the stars, the earth, I was reminded that my atoms belonged to the atoms of all the people who existed before me. This form will degrade and move on and so will I, regardless of my awareness of any of it.
It didn’t help much but it helped enough that I slept, finally. Every time I feel that familiar pain begin to well up and bring tears to the corners of my eyes I try to say, “I am alive now” instead of “I am going to die.” The end doesn’t matter. The journey is the most important. I have my partner on that road and I am aiming to make the most of it. Happiness is all I can give myself. I decide my life, the only one I have.
I need to be alive while I still am.