"Inevitability"

October 25, 2018; Contemplative Essay

Death is inevitable. Every living being on this planet will one day die. They will die, decay, and become obsolete because everyone that’s alive to mourn them also dies. I’ve never understood why people worry about death. Some people die in their sleep due to old age, others die as children in car accidents. Some deaths are messier than others, or take others along with them. That is the way it is. We can’t prevent it. We can’t bring them back. In my short lifetime, I’ve accepted that fact and moved on. I don’t see much, if any, point in worrying about my death or the deaths of others. I’m not suicidal, but I know that it will happen, and I can’t do anything about it. My own finite existence is not a crushing weight, always pressing up against my mind, waiting. I breathe now, and one day I’ll stop, who cares? I will not rush at death, or run away from it. I'll walk until the world says I can stop walking.

I don’t feel particularly bad when other people die, either. Which, I know, is terrible to say. I will miss them, mourn them, but I move on. Their death was inevitable, it was going to happen one way or another. This is especially true when their death was their fault. If someone who smokes a pack a day dies of lung cancer, oh well. Someone dies in a minor car accident because they weren’t wearing a seat belt? There’s a reason we have seat belts, they should have known that. It's saddening when it was not their fault. If someone dies because of a drunk driver, it’s tragic. It was their turn to go, and they weren’t even cutting in line. I have little sympathy when drunk drivers die in car accidents. They were throttling themselves at death anyway.

I find that most people don’t think about death the same way I do, and they get mad at me for it. They think I’m a sociopath, or that I’m depressed and don’t see a point in living. I’m actually somewhere in the middle. I don’t care much about living or dying, though life scares me more than death. Death is inevitable. It’s a universal constant that keeps the playing field equal. Life is not fair. It takes and takes, even after you have run out of things to give. Some people spend their lives below the poverty line, facing hardship after hardship. Some people spend their lives wealthy and privileged. I was born into a middle class family. A mom and dad, a little sister, and three cats. The only thing missing is the white picket fence. I know that, most likely, I am doomed to the same life. I’ll work a boring, nine-to-five desk job, where I have to wear pencil skirts and little brown pumps. I’ll have a husband that works a similar job, and kids who make decent grades. I’ll have a dog, instead of cats, to spice it up.

The inevitability of life and all its boringness terrifies me. I want to visit every country in the world (minus North Korea), I want to learn to cook. I want to decide to go on a road trip and be on the road less than an hour later. I know many of these things are impossible. My life will stay the same dull colors, never changing. For the first few years of my life, I ate, slept, and cried. For the past nine years, I’ve woken up at six o’clock every day, went to school for eight hours, then repeat. Once I graduate, I’ll do the same for college. Then I’ll spend the rest of my life waking up at six o’clock, going to work, then coming home. Everything about life is routine. Death isn’t. That’s why the concept of death isn’t scary to me, but comforting.  One day I’ll die, and the routine will stop. Maybe I never got to visit Nepal, or live in France. Maybe I’m never that good at cooking. I’ll regret missing my chances, I guess. I just don’t want to be bored anymore, and death isn't boring to me.