Death.
The five letter word that is the final destination for every living thing. Every person, every animal, every plant you've ever known and will know, one day, will face this demise.
What's the point of anything if all that awaits is death?
What value does any achievement or failure have if we are all going to die anyway?
What makes life worth living if everything is temporary?
I don't know how I knew this answer before. I don't know how I can continue to answer this question.
How did I look at this world with any positivity?
How was I so naive in a world that sought the end of my life?
How was I capable of being myself?
The memory of the person I used to be seems light years away, but the trauma and pain still stings as if it just happened.
When will I be happy again?
Do I even deserve happiness?
I don't know, and honestly, I don't want to know.
I just want it all to stop.
Maybe that's why death is the final destination. It's the only thing to stop time for someone, the only thing that can take away the pain.
So why am I still so scared of you, death?
Why do you still control my every thought and action?
When will I be free?