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You wonder if you’ll know when you die.
You know.
At least I did.
I was as close to it now as you can be without taking that last, irrevocable leap. It isn’t even a leap, really, just a small, conscious, deliberate step. Away from this, into that.
I wasn’t afraid to take it.
Your body conspires, I think, to convince you that it’s in too much pain, you’ll be happier without it, you don’t need it to keep living on. You know there’s a you inside here, and it doesn’t depend on bones and muscles and tissue to survive. It’s a surprise, really, because all your life you’ve thought that was your life. But it turns out it wasn’t. You were fooled.
I should have suspected—me, of all people. I was living proof that there was something about a human life that could live elsewhere, beyond its
