I always look at elders and wonder- how did they do it? How do they wake up every day and choose to love? They’ve seen it all. They’ve lost their parents, their siblings, their spouses. Yet they continue to live. Where does the courage come from? Do they cry themselves to sleep every night? Are they really alive, or just skin and flesh grieving?

Makes me ponder- isn’t death the most selfish thing? People just don’t wake up one day, leaving everyone behind. We pray for the long life of our loved ones but isn’t it just a way to save ourselves from the sadness of their loss? What if the ones who die go to a better place? Or they steep down to a deep slumber of peace?

“It’s just life, it’ll be over before you know it.” This line from ‘Five Feet Apart’ has been imprinted on my mind like a stroke of a stick on wet clay. But do we actually fear the end of our own life, or do we want to prolong it so that our loved ones won’t have to suffer from pain? We’ve been told to live our life to the fullest, but are we even living for ourselves? What is the point of life anyway? We’re running till the sweet release of death hits us. We celebrate our birthday, we celebrate each year we get closer to death. Isn’t that the biggest irony?

And what is grief actually about? When we already know the end, why do we keep running from it? If we know what’s going to happen, shouldn’t we spend our time preparing ourselves for it? This is life- you gotta live it big and long. But is a long life really an accomplishment, or the biggest sin?

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