A train comes your way.
I wonder what goes through your mind in that moment.
Is it every person you’ve ever loved? Almost loved? Wished to loved? Regretted to love?
Is it everything just all at once, wondering what you could’ve done differently, internally screaming in pain at your choices, your shortened fate approaching?
Does the cognizance of seconds away from death surrender your awakening? It’s funny how irony works.
Do these last few breathes of life finally soften your heart, and get you wondering at everything you ever missed out on, or everyone?
Do you cry out at all the minutes, months, years spent wasted being sad or angry about things or people you couldn’t change?
Do you remember every person that played a significant part in changing you?
I wonder if you remember all the things you’re supposed to forget.
Even the people your brain repressed because it hurt too much to remember?
What if you came face to face with the person you were always supposed to be, the person you could have been? How about all that unused potential, possible future growth, wasted opportunities for self-love and greatness?
Suddenly you feel the oxygen leaving first your lungs, then out the rest of your body. Instead, regret and nostalgia fill its place.
All those scattered pieces of yourself, lost in trying to mend others, and not being successful in piecing your own. Or sometimes even heavily dragging your pieces and cutting others with the sharpest blades along the way.
But most of all, I hope you can say that with all honesty, you gave it your all.
You gave up all your love, every last inch, even if it went towards people who didn’t appreciate it. That hopefully the overproduction of love leaving your heart and clinging onto everything and everyone in sight, managed to give people that feeling of love when they needed it most.
That maybe in its smallest way, you made a difference. That the people you can’t forget about, hopefully can’t forget about you either.
That you cared as deeply for every person you came across, and left them better then when you met them.
I hope you see that your life is in your own hands, and there is nobody you can blame for your unhappiness but you.
Not all the people who wronged you, not all the people who caused you pain and made you feel like you weren’t good enough for them, not all the moments that suffocated your every cell from existence.
We don’t pick situations, but we choose how we act in them.
And choice, my dear, is the root of all evil. But it’s yours. Don’t let it be your demise.
And just as every millisecond from these last seconds between life and death count, I hope you realize so did every millisecond before this moment, before you knew the time at which death was approaching.
I hope you figured out, even if it’s so late in the game, that every second should be used to fight, fight with all your damn heart and soul, to hold yourself up, see how far you’ve come, and give purpose to others.
I will never stop fighting too much.
I will never stop feeling too much.
I will never stop caring too much.
I will never stop loving too much.
I will never stop giving too much.
People might not deserve it, but it’s all I know.
And at this moment, at this date with destiny, I will not give in.