Dying is easy.

You don't have to be anything. You just have to be dead...it's simple, abrupt. The best part is that nobody is in pain anymore, nobody is hurt, nobody is crying, nobody is going to tell you what to do. You start to disappear and I think that makes everything about death so appealing to me.

Unlike that leap to let everything go and to leave everything and everyone behind, surviving is endurance. I have to endure the past, the present and the unknown future that's waiting for me. I have to keep walking, even if I'm walking on an open fire.

It's scary, and I'm nothing but terrified.

But I am not dead, right? I keep walking, because I'm still living.

The world will keep breaking me, but until I can no longer take another step, I'll keep moving. Waiting for the clear, the ocean that would wash this ache and fear away.

So, I get up despite the ache. Despite the darkness. I look at myself in the mirror. I scrutinize myself, the way this body survived after everything. After being forced, and thrown away, and hated. Ostracized by everyone who knew nothing about my story.

I'm terrified, but I haven't given up yet.