I Don’t Fear It

I’m not afraid to die.

For some reason that makes people sad, but why would I be afraid of the one thing I crave more than anything else?

More than love and more than a home.

I’m not afraid to die because it’s such a natural event.

Everyone dies in the end, and we’re told that there is always going to be someone waiting for us on the other side. A grandparent or even a lost pet.

I’m not afraid to die because the world is falling apart around us and no one seems to care.

I don’t want to live if it means that I’m constantly fearing for that very life every time I step outside. There are people who want me dead just for existing and there are people who will try to kill me for those very reasons.

I‘m not afraid to die because if World War III begins I will swallow whatever pills I have in my cupboard and wash it down with as much liquor my body can handle.

I am at constant war with my own mind and I am already struggling on the front lines against something no one else can see.

I’m not afraid to die because I’ve already suffered more than any twenty year old should. Eyes go wide when I tell them about what has happened to me. It feels like a never-ending list of horrors that should not have been able to exist.

Surely death will hurt less than the beatings I received as a child.

And surely death would free me of the memories of my past.

A gun to my head. A knife against my throat. Covering bruises, and ignoring injuries that should have been seen by a doctor.

My mother defending my abuser over her own son, then abandoning him time and time again.

My father refusing to change even after finding me unconscious on the bathroom floor, begging him to let me die because I feel so unloved in my own home.

I am not afraid of death.

I never will be.

I’m eagerly awaiting the day that I get to feel the warm embrace of death.

I know that it will feel so much warmer than any love I have ever felt.

I don’t think anyone should fear death or the idea of it.

I think we should embrace it.