Balancing on the Edge (duplicated)

chapter one I’m not afraid of death. Every day I look at it and spit in

its face. It is a known quantity, an eventual certainty. I’m not afraid of death.

But every day is a tightrope walk between what I tell myself is right and what I feel

is inevitable. I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid of losing the people I love—and

realizing I’ve already lost them. I keep telling myself I'm not afraid of death.

But life scares me. I exist in a weak balance, clinging to the

edge because I don't want to die, yet I don't know how to live. I just want the

suffering to stop. It’s the sickening way my chest locks up the instant I wake,