Sometimes when I lay awake at night, unable to sleep, I think about dying. Also, nine times out of ten, in movie theaters. No idea why. Maybe there's just something about being in the dark. The quiet, the emptiness, the loneliness that can be overwhelming alone in a king size bed at night. But it can come on out of nowhere, hard and fast, like bricks falling from the ceiling, squeezing the air out of my lungs, bearing down just to see if I will break.
Am I doing enough with my life? Are you? If we lost it all tomorrow, would it have been worth it? I, all too often, think about that decision I made at 23 to give up what I loved doing, in exchange for health insurance and security. Has it been worth it? Where has it gotten me? It's led to me a 30-mile commute, during which the pressure mounts in my head until I get there and can hardly muster the strength to walk through the door. Things have got to change. Things have needed to change. And they will. Because I refuse to find myself in the last few moments of my life wishing I had done things differently.
I want to love more, to breathe more, to smile more, and to laugh more. Anything else just doesn't seem worth it...because it's not.