What if I were to just end it all? Leave this earth and find out what’s on the other side. It’s the best-kept secret, you know. Or maybe just the worst secret ever. Either way, I can’t shake off this feeling of curiosity that makes me believe there is something better than what we have here. I mean, there has to be, right?

If there is, then there is hope for my existence, and I would be willing to dwell as another lifeless being on this planet until my day comes when my flesh and everything that holds me together no longer works. I can exist just because I know I don’t have to do my best here to get to the other side. I don’t need to please myself or anyone who is willing to smile a fake smile in my face for their sake, because you know, deep down inside, we all want to get to the other side.

I wouldn’t have to sit through meaningless activities, such as school, or a job, or any other tedious happenings ever because I know that I am here to laugh. I am here to run in the wild and see what earth has to offer, feel the warmth of the sun and the aching cold of the winter breeze and say I have lived. I am here to witness birth and the sadness that overcomes my being when a loved one dies. I am here to grieve for those who cannot feel because they have become numb. I am here to face my fears of diving into the unknown all the while hoping that if my life ends, I will be going somewhere new.

But what if there isn’t somewhere “new.” What if all we have is right here in front of us? What if those things we call love and trust and honesty are a figment of our imaginations that will never materialize because we have grown too weak to feel. What if the meaning of life is working hard to make things better for those who come after? What if I never get to think about myself because I am taught that selfishness is a crime, yet we all struggle to be selfless.

What if I never get to see the light of day because I work all night for those I love and sleep all day while the sun kisses their skin and leaves mine dry and forgotten? Would that be enough to keep me alive? Would losing the sparkle in my eye be enough to finally die?

Is that what I am waiting for? To let my flesh dry and my bones grow stiff to the point where I am stuck, in a cold room with plain sheets and the continuous beeping of a machine that is the only reason I get to see the sun every morning through my window. The sun that I longed to kiss my skin, help me rejuvenate every wrinkle that the night gave me. The sun that is covered every morning with a dark curtain by those ladies in plain colored scrubs and dead eyes that cannot wait for their shift to end, even though it just started.

I would long for the sun even more then. I would cry at night for it, and wish I had the strength to get up and greet it.

If this is all this earth has to give me. If this is what we call life. If this is all I have to look forward to, take the sparkle in my eye now, and make it all end while I can still greet the sun and have it kiss my cheek, while those before me are asleep and greet the night bitterly to make a better day for me tomorrow.