death

So, i started thinking about the ways that people leave us: car accidents, heart attacks, cancer, plane crashes, mass shootings. peacefully, privately, tragically, violently. some people die before they even get the chance to become people, and maybe that's the saddest part-that no matter when or how it happens, there's always the fact that there could have been more. more love, more time to grow, more fun to be had, more unsaid words to say. at first, i was constantly afraid that it might be my time too, and i was THE END at every turn. then, i became obsessive about trying to say the right things at the right times, making my movements graceful and calculated. but what i learned is that existing like that is as close to dying as it is to living