See you but not so soon

The thief of life

I found myself writing last night. I suddenly got up in the middle of the night and wrote something on pad paper that has been inserted into my notebook.

I just knew that so many things were stressing me out. I realized I should talk about it at the very least.

I wrote these words on paper:

“Why should I be afraid of death? One way or another we are all going to die. No matter how much we care for our bodies, we still have other ways to die. Death is not something we can prevent. We can only do so much.

And why should we care about what’s to come? We only do what we can do.

Tomorrow, death, life, people, family, friends, loved ones, beloved ones, people we are longing for.

Why should we be afraid of death?

We aren't afraid of harming ourselves yet we are so worried that we might die.

We aren't afraid of sinning yet we wish we will not die. Not yet… not just yet.”

I cried a bit afterward out of inexplicable grief over people and life. Grief for whatever I have done badly before. Grief and repentance. I have a lot I am regretful.

I am afraid. I am afraid. I am very afraid that tomorrow or any other day shortly, I will die just like how I will die.

In some way, I am lamenting myself. Why do I do the things that shouldn’t be done yet I feel afraid that I might get sick and eventually die? Die earlier than old age.

I am scolding myself because even after knowing the result before the action I still did what I shouldn't have done.

I am already more than three decades old. And I do not know how I will put things together. I am not cool with how I carry things around.

I want a worry-free life yet I can’t seem to do that at this point. But why can’t I? I ask myself. I have always been the easygoing one. Why am I so worried nowadays?

I see weird changes in my body like in my urine and somewhere else here inside me and I already thought so many advanced thoughts of death and life and life and death.

To be honest, my worries were nothing but financial security. I thought long and hard and I realized that I didn’t have much for hospitalization just in case something happens. I didn’t have enough savings that would cover my expenses in case I voluntarily resigned from my job.

I didn’t have enough with me that would ensure that my children will have something to use. I didn’t want my kids to suffer. I didn’t want my kids to live without their mother. I didn’t want my kids to live without me guiding them.

Then I look up and prayed hard that He will comfort me. With Him, nothing will be worrisome. I asked Him to be with me throughout this journey in life.

As for the thief of life, I am still so worried about it. And the only way I could get out of it is through writing and praying.

I won’t question anymore His existence.

I will have faith even if that is a blind one.

I am in no position anyway to doubt what others are doubting.

I have seen many miracles and that would already be more than enough.

I know that a positive mind, a faithful heart, and a clean conscience will make me through this precious life I am so adamant to keep.

I wanted to live long.

Now my inner voice is suggesting that I will just play along with the demands of life. I will seek medical help if needed. I will ask the charity if necessary. But I should always pray that my medicines will be affordable by what I earn. In here and from my job.

So long, thief. I’ll see you when I see you.