I have had a paralyzing fear of death almost my entire life. After I learned how the dinosaurs went in my childhood I remember many nights staring out the window from my bed with unquenchable dread that an asteroid would hit the earth at any moment and bring me to an untimely demise.
Adulthood has only heightened my fear. The irony of it is, believing in an afterlife of light and pure goodness only makes it worse. I have, in all honesty, grown to love the melancholy of life, the bittersweet imperfectness of it. Whether I crawl out of my body and enter the light of an afterlife or the darkness of nothing, I will be crawling into a world that lacks the one crucial element this life holds, the one thing I don’t ever want to let go of: contrast.