Waiting to die…

Some days… like today… I can feel his breath on my neck because he’s so close. I can feel his presence in my every task as he waits. He waits for the inevitable. He waits to do his job of taking my soul from this world. The reaper is my only constant companion these days. Death is my only commitment.  

Some days I talk to him. I tell him I’m ready. I’m ready for the pain to end. I’m ready to go to my final destination. I can feel the inevitability of it all. Some days I’m at peace with it all. Some days… 

Most days I hold on with every ounce of life and yell at him that I’m not ready… that I never will be. I still have days where I feel alive and I cling to those days. Those are the days where my mind and body decide to work. 

I know my time will come… I can feel that it’s probably soon. I spend my days cherishing moments… I focus on trying to reconnect with people. I hate being alone… it reminds me that I will die alone.  
I’m afraid… I’m afraid of what happens next. I pray for it to come quickly and just end the never ending pain and emotional struggle. Yet I am afraid of dying.  

I pray I’ve touched a life or two. I pray I’ve helped the world in some way. I pray I’m not forgotten… I mean I’m forgettable even alive so I don’t imagine my legacy will go far. So I wait… I wait for death to take my pain away.   

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