D E A T H
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Everyone thinks of it, at least some point in their life.
It could've been brought up by a death in the family, hearing about it on the news, on social media, but the inevitable always finds a way to creep into ones mind.
Some can simply shrug their shoulders, accept their mortality, but for people like myself?
It festers in your mind, cripples you with hopelessness, knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do to alter your fate.
I'm tired of waking up in the dead of night, gasping, chanting "I don't want to die" and waking up my husband in the process because I'm clinging to him for comfort.
He cradles me, pets my hair, and tells me that everything will be alright.
But it won't be alright.
Because one day, I will cease to exist, and he will too, and everyone else I know and love, and the thought of that is horrific.
How can the elemental balance of life, all of us being born live and born to die, be so scary?
It's natural, no matter how much society deems it as taboo.
I just want to accept death, to not fear it, but so much is unknown about the most innate part of life.
It's comical, because living is honestly more terrifying than dying, yet, the mysteriousness of it is what roots it all for me.
I truly feel if there was a definitive "this is what happens when you die, this is what you feel, and this is what happens afterwards" would perhaps make it less traumatizing.
But the thought of there being nothing is scary, and the same goes for eternal life.
Ugh.
Regardless, I just hope that when my time comes, I will accept it and embrace it.
All I ask is to plant catnip on my grave. I want to be visited by lots and lots of cats.
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