In the last time I often sit at home, in the evenings, all by myself and think about life. Its advantages, its happenings, its surprises and everything that it had in store for me, so far. While I sit on my Canapé, reading Vogue, drinking black tea with soy milk and listening to music the thoughts of lonesomeness often comes to my mind. Don’t get me wrong, I have wonderful friends with whom I love to go out, have dinner, or just watch a movie, but sometimes, you just need someone at your side, that gives you more than the love of a caring friend. I don’t have a boyfriend since quite a long time, though I have been madly in love with my last one, and I guess, I still am, but nevertheless, I just sometimes feel the need to simply lie in the arms of a man that has feelings for me, that overwhelm me and my emotions completely. And on that point of my thoughts I often switch to a question that is on my mind since I attended the wedding of my frenemy S. about two weeks ago: What happens when we die? How does dying or being dead already feel? How is it to not BE anymore? How is it to lose someone or be lost? Those questions inevitably cross my mind every day since that particular day. I can’t get these thoughts out of my mind, unless I do not find a proper, adequate and satisfying answer.
I sat there, on a bench in the church and looked at the happy bridal couple, while the clergyman spoke his words on marriage and God and the unbreakable love I began to think about dying and the fact that I just did not want to die before being married, at least once. I kind of began freaking out on the thought of dying and the fact that when you die it is over… when I say over, I think about the process of thinking, of looking at things and analyzing them, looking at things and liking them, thinking them to be beautiful. I think about the process of loving someone, being a friend to someone. I think about having your eyes closed and not being able to open them, numb, and not being able to think, to breathe, to see, to feel, to hear. You are just not there anymore, physically yes, but not mentally! I hate this thought. It really makes me cry and I am petrified on this thought. I just can’t get rid of him, no matter if I try to sleep, sit in my best friend’s car or if I am on my way to work or university…this thought…these thoughts are always there and they kind of hurt when I imagine myself not being able to think anymore, not being able to BE anymore.
In my dreams I find myself in a coffin screaming the hell out of my lungs and it is so abominably narrow and small in it that I almost feel the coffin-walls coming closer to crush me to death, though I am already and I scream and no one hears me, because I am not alive anymore, and no one cares about hearing me, because they think I am at a better place though I actually just not AM anymore. It is horrible. Completely, inevitably horrifying me.
I never thought I would be afraid of dying, the process itself, as long as it did not hurt. I believe in God and the better place, at least I do not believe in the last one anymore. There is no better place than being alive, being able to breathe, to feel, to visualize, every single day, and mostly even without noticing. But since I sat there, in church I hate the thought of getting older every single second of every single day and therefore getting even closer to die one day, maybe without even being loved one day…maybe without being important to someone at the point of dying…maybe without having fulfilled your dreams, your heart’s desire, everything you ever wanted or expected of life.
My imagination drives me wild and right now I sit here and face the inevitable fact that we ALL have to die one day, and that, maybe some of us sooner than they would have ever expected. I do not want to die, I am honest, but I know that I have to and I hope, that God has a little more love prepared for me, for my future life, if there is one. I want to marry, I want to have a child, I want to have my dream job, to fulfill my heart’s desire, the one I have since I am nine years of age. I want to live and I love every single second of life, even if they are frightening or desperate ones.
I love them. I love life. I love myself.