I don't know where it started or how, but I found myself suddenly wanting not to live. Not because I had anything terrible going on in my life. In fact, even during my darkest moments, I never contemplated dying to avoid the pain. But now I am gaining morbid curiosity about death, dying, the effect on those we leave behind when we die.
who will I hurt when I die? my parents, for sure. my siblings, yes. friends, only the closest ones.
but how long will they grieve? I wonder not because I want them to grieve for me for a long time but because I am calculating if my not being alive will only inflict unnecessary and a long drawn out pain for them. I want people to forget me when I am no longer around.
yet, I worry my parents will carry pain shaped like my void around with them, forever and ever until they die. I worry that in seeing my parents, my siblings will then grieve twice as hard as they normally would if my parents were not around with the ghost of my once-existence lingering around them.
for my friends, I hope they forget me soon and build better memories with their loved ones to replace the ones marked 'me'.
I wonder if everyone I think of also thinks of dying.
