They Both Die at the End

by Adam Silvera

To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that’s all. —Oscar Wilde

“warning” is too strong a word since warnings suggest something can be avoided, like a car honking at someone who’s crossing the street when it isn’t their light, giving them the chance to step back; this is more of a heads-up.

I wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows.

I’ll be gone before I can adjust to my mortality.

I can’t draw to save my life. (Or do anything to save my life, obviously, and I want to say that’s neither here nor there, but it pretty much is everything, isn’t it?)

I’m not walking out into a world that will kill me before my time.

you only die once, after all.

If there’s a God guy out there like my mom believed, I hope he’s got my back right now.

Poor girl can’t even get a break from assholes hitting on her when she’s grieving herself.

My pops once said goodbyes are “the most possible impossible” ’cause you never wanna say them, but you’d be stupid not to when given the shot.

No matter how we choose to live, we both die at the end.

A ship in harbor is safe, but that is not what ships are built for. —John A. Shedd

and finally he cries, these loud, stuttering sobs, not because he’ll now have a criminal record, not because he’s scared to go to the police station, not even because Rufus is dying, but because the biggest crime of all tonight was not being able to hug his best friend goodbye.

someone else laughing from another window, possibly at the very loud comedy show or possibly because they’re being tickled by a lover or laughing at a joke someone cared enough to text them at this late hour.

Don’t do your last day wrong.”