Is this all I’m capable of? Crying? Weeping over my decided fate? Yet I lack the strength to stand tall, reach 18, and die audaciously.

A family curse, the firstborn is to die the first day of his eighteenth year. A simple heart attack. Here and gone. A dandelion seed passing by.

At fifteen, you could say my parents broke the news, but really, the news broke me.

What have I done? Where is the accountability?

Anger and sorrow are weaving together.

Why waste a precious day in vengeance, though. I’ve bowed to the facts, and each time the sun rises, I’m well aware of ticking time. Each morning, each night, I hold the day in my hands. A gift I will never concede. A full life. I will live a full life.

That night was long. I was alone. I petitioned. I sobbed and I will not apologize. Because these tears helped me feel. There is a time for gladness and sadness, a time for dancing and mourning. I grieved for a lost life but held my fifteen years in my heart.

The time for regrets has gone.

I will ride to the beach and smell the air. I will play catch with my sister. I will try baking a bacon cupcake. I will be honest with my feelings. I will clean the house for my mom. I will appreciate a cafe’s atmosphere. I will compliment freely. I will-

I will write my journeys down, so maybe someone will see how I tried.