“If today is the worst day ever, then tomorrow has to be better. Right?”

There are times when I often wonder, what kind of death do I want for myself?

Like many dreamers, there was a time I too wanted to live forever. But as I age and mature, I truly realize what a foolish dream it was. Religious beliefs aside, what more could I possibly attain that I would not be able to in my own short life-span? Call me a coward if you must, but I don’t want to see the people I love die. I accept death, but I am very fearful of it too. A cruel wish of mine is to not be left behind by death, but rather to leave others behind with my death.

Seventh’s death in the anime Mirai Nikki really hit this point back at me. A lovely couple that wished to win the game to attain immortality, so that they could spend eternity together. They of course were defeated by the main pair; though in the end they were together even in death.

The thoughts that run through my mind involving death are numerous. But the most important one always is, how will I die? Or rather, how do I wanted to die?

A heroic death? A peaceful one? For a loved one?

Ideally, I think I wanted to die for the woman I love. A romantic death, one in which I would die protecting her. Perhaps taking a bullet for her or shielding her from something else. I was once asked about my views on women. My most honest answer was that I wanted to protect them. It was a very anti-feminist answer, but I believe that down to the genetic level, perhaps even in our souls (if you believe in such a thing), lies the natural desire, instinct if you will, for men to want to protect women.

I thought much more deeply about my death and I’ve come to the realization that it would be okay to die being at peace with the world, with God, and with everything on my mind.

*Give this song a shot while reading the next part.

A little something like this…

2020, I’m a 30 year-old, unmarried, cyber-investigation specialist. It is Christmas Eve of the year, I’ve just finished solving the biggest case of human trafficking known in the history of man. One of the females involved invited me to her house for a meal as thanks. I accepted, being without a girlfriend for four years now. Prior to the dinner, I give my friends a call and wish them Merry Christmas. A few of them give me teasing comments about settling down and spending too much time on my job and my writings. I tell them that I’m not too worried about it and they wish me luck on my date. To which I reply, “It’s not a date.” Hanging up on them, I check my watch and realize it is time.

During the dinner, I receive a call from my boss. I’m to be promoted and given a personal congratulations by the President as well as many important officials for my involvement in the case. The ceremony will take place in a week, for now I am to enjoy this vacation to the fullest, the boss has deposited a generous sum in my bank account. I thank him and hang up the phone.

After the dinner, the young lady asks if I’m single. I tell her that I am. She embarrassingly tries to ask me out for an official date, but I take the lead midway and ask her myself. She agrees and gives me her contact details.  I check the time once again and seeing how late it is, I bid her goodnight and leave. I drive to my apartment and notice that it has begun snowing.

I take a moment to admire the white landscape around me and then I feel a sharp pain in my back. A man rushes past me and I realize that this is revenge for my involvement in the case. I stumble a bit and end up leaning on the lamppost. The feeling in legs weaken and I fall down with my back leaning on the post. I pull my cellphone out from my pocket, but the blood has soaked my clothing completely. The touchscreen is unusable, so I lay it back down.

The coldness in the air begins to get to me and I close my eyes. I sense a faint feeling of warmth and memories of my life begin to fill my mind. Moments and faces make up the bulk of it, everyone that has ever touched my life even those I had long forgotten. And then her smiling face and promised date appeared in my mind, perhaps hinting at a future that was not meant for me. I didn’t want to regret anything, so I whispered “sorry” as my fingers brushed the blood-drenched paper in my pocket, the very one that contained her number.

After making peace with myself and accepting the end, I spoke out as if talking to God “It was a good life” and putting on a smile, I let go of my life.

The time is 12:01 AM on December 25, 2020.

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