I wonder what I'm giving up. It's part of what keeps me back.
Will I be loved again? Never feel the pain of birth again? Listen to my own laughter beat against the walls? Admire my own accomplishments? Always rent movies because I am afraid to sit alone?
...am I afraid to be alone?
What if no one is there to hold me when I die and I'm the person that the paramedic gets excited to "work," only to find that I've been laying there for three days already?
I didn't want to be a statistic.
I didn't want any of this.
...and I am afraid.
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