Know What I Hate More Than Life?

Death.
I do not take someone's passing lightly, whether I know them or not. It is a selfish motivation - I am not always crying for the deceased, but for my own mortality and the concrete fate of those I love. I become obsessed with the thought. You're going to die, Arie, but first you'll get to bury a few family members and best friends. May as well end it now. Honestly. I think of how one day I'm going to die and how it may very well be slow and agonizing, and I want to kill myself here and now. Surely that is the best solution?

My coworker and friend lost a loved one today. A person that was responsibly driving. Wearing a seat belt. Signaling properly. None the less dead. It doesn't matter what you do, you can't escape death when it wants you, and that thought is enough to sometimes paralyze me.

I think of how often me and the person I love more than anybody on this clearly foresaken earth drive around at one in the morning, slightly intoxicated and eager to get to bed. Of how I could cause a crash and, worse than hurting myself, have something happen to him. I could never live with that. I could never live without him.