People say that when you know you are dying, you can live free. You live without fear, because heck, you’re going to die anyways, why not make the best of what little time you have left? But I don’t see it that way.
I live in fear; constant, agonizing fear.
I fear that that roller coaster everybody else is going to get on will flip off of the tracks- I never ride.
I fear that that plane will plummet into the ocean on my way to Paris- I never fly.
I even constantly fear that people will reject me- I stay silent.
If I found out that I was dying, I’d well… die. Let’s be brutally honest. I’d be crushed. Most of all, I’d probably still live in regret up until that fateful day…
I’d regret that I had never flown to Paris. I’d regret that I had never ridden that roller coaster with my friends. I’d regret having never said a simple hello to a boy, who is just as human as me.
As I lie on my death bed, I know just what I will say: “I love you all, and don’t be like me. Don’t live in fear. Be brave.”