The First to Die at the End

by Adam Silvera

Freaking out about death every minute isn’t a good life, and yet, tons of people are freaking out about death every minute.

Freedom should be freeing, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be heartbreaking.

I’d rather be planets apart as long as she’s still breathing on the other side of the galaxy.

I don’t know if I can orbit around someone this beautiful and not just fall in love, stay in love, and die in love.

It’s not fair how someone can do everything right and still be hurt because someone else does one thing wrong.

“I understand that the person who gets the Death-Cast call isn’t the only one dying. If you really hold someone in your heart, you die too.”

“Here’s the truth no one ever wants to admit when death is on the horizon, or when you’re deep in that grief—as long as you keep existing, you’ll keep breathing, and if you’re breathing, one day you’ll start living again.”

“I want to make great memories. Something to look back on whenever existing seems hard.”

I write short stories because I am one. I wish I was a novel. Breaths away from midnight, I know my final chapter is close. I look up at Valentino, wondering what life could’ve offered if I had more pages in me.

It’s heartbreaking how much it costs to be alive when you’re always dying.