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“And I don’t want to die before I’ve even had the chance to live.”
“I’ve been disappointed before,” I argued. “But that doesn’t mean I have to expect to be let down again. Every day is a new day, you know? A new chance.”
It isn’t death that’s scary. It’s living without actually living at all, breathing without purpose, existing without essence.
“Stay. Stay with me. Live with me.”
“Living is hard, it’s the more difficult choice, but I can’t not choose it,”
With her, the nights haven’t been so dark, and neither have my thoughts. With her, I’ve found purpose.