Uncomfortable

rain makes me uncomfortable

driving down the road with lights blinking on and off blinding me sporadically as I traverse the highway envisioning my damp and eminent death

darkness makes me nervous

alley ways hiding unknown dangers and creeping perverts as I imagine the headlines of my gruesome and bloody demise

Hiking leaves me quaking

as I wander through dimly lit treescapes jutting out over jagged cliffs and I see myself tumbling down, down, down to a bloody and painful end.

Swimming is terrifying

warm water rushing over me and entering my lungs as i feel the possiblity of the lifeguard pulling me to shore and pounding on my chest as the life slowly leaves my eyes.

I know that I am going to die

every trip to the doctor is going to be my last

though no symptoms exist outside of my imagination

Each exit from my house is taking a chance that I will never return

and leave my family alone with nothing to keep them secure

because I have nothing to leave behind

How many times have I narrowly escaped death?

How long until it catches up to me, leaving me gasping and trying to hold on?

or will I let go

or ease gently into the abyss

not reaching back but pushing forward into the light at the end of it all

would that be selfish?

If cancer turns out to be the one that gets me

eating my insides

turning them to tar

and I choose to let it destroy me

would that be cruel?

Is waiting to die a fair way to live?

Is living for the end the only option?