My fiancé posted a link on Facebook at 5am this morning about coming to terms with your own mortality. Naturally, I commented “why were you online at that time of the morning” but what I really wanted to ask him was why was he reading that at 5 in the morning. I clicked the link and read the post, and then the comments. It then had me thinking about death.
I used to be afraid of death; it feels like such a long time ago. I have been through so much in the last seven years that death now seems like an endless, dreamless, peaceful sleep. I am not afraid of the inevitable; we’re born to die. It’s the cycle of life which we all have to endure; and I accept that.
Later in the day, he told me that’s what he thinks about if he’s awake at that time of the morning; his death, the fact he will no longer exist, and he wanted to exist forever. That thought scares me: immortality. I wouldn’t want to live forever; as it is, this world already has enough bloodshed and war and selfishness, why would I want to see it all? Yes there are beautiful things about life, and many miracles I will not experience, but I still, do not want to live forever.
I find something beautiful in a death following a life well lived. When you have lived a long life full of adventure, and you pass in your sleep knowing you’ve done everything you’ve wanted to do, there is something beautiful about that.
I try to live my life doing everything I have ever wanted to do; and everything I’m supposed to do. Naturally, I accept that some things are just not possible, so I’m allowed no regrets in that respect. I just want to help people, and be joyous, both of which I’m doing now.
I’m not afraid of death; I’m afraid of more malicious things, like cancer… *shudders*
The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time. ~ Mark Twain
