Afraid of being 28
Obvious happy to be alive
Age never seemed to mean something to me. It was ‘just’ a number. Until I became 28. Suddenly it meant something: restlessness. I’m not scared of getting older, not at all. I’m scared of missing out. Of course, every now and then I feel some pressure: so much to do, so little time.
At first, I couldn’t figure out why I felt that way. Until recently. While enjoying some glasses of wine with a friend, our conversation became more serious. We were talking death. And how life might not be completely over after dying.
Sober as we are, we agreed there might be something out there. Young as we are, we both didn’t feel the need to worry or take this to serious. Right at that moment, I realized what causes my restlessness. I’ve lost 3 people, shortly after each other, all at the age of 28. They weren’t my closest friends, but with all of them I’ve shared some special moments. All of them died of cancer. Luckily they were all saved from long sickbeds. All of them had the chance to say goodbye.
I’ve met two of them while they were sick. It was as if I was looking death right in the eye. They knew there was nothing, nobody who could keep them from dying. They surrendered or their bodies didn’t gave them any chance to fight. How could this happen? Young people in the prime of life, facing new opportunities.
The death of these 3, far to young to die, people, made me want to live my life to the maximum. I wanted to fight the boring, the standard, the easy. Because they wouldn’t have chosen a boring, standard and easy life. They were full of plans, dreams, ambitions. All 3 of them were about to start new phases in their lives. Only life chose other options for them.
Their death made me realize I should be alive. It made me change my life 360 degrees. I finally found the guts to follow my dreams and respond to the restlessness. Their death wasn’t fair and I felt I wasn’t fair living a life that wasn’t exciting. It was save, easy and exactly what society expected me to do. Now I realize, their death wasn’t in vain. It was my wake-up call.
Though, I’m afraid of being 28. 8 More months, in which the same could happen to me. I could be hit by a car, crash in a plane, become sick or whatever. Of course, chances are none of that happens. But I’m afraid. Why would I get to live? Why would faith take me somewhere else, and not them? In my eyes, they had so much potential.
The restlessness makes me more aware of how delicate live is. You can make your own choices and decisions, trying to follow your dreams. Sometimes everything runs smooth and life treats you well. Sometimes you’ll see yourself standing in a deep valley, no way you could climb up. We always talk about 7 big years, 7 poor years. Always think about the future, all the things in life we still want to do or reach or say. Stop. Act every day like it’s your last day. Do the things you really want to do. Say out loud what bothers you, or what makes you and others smile. Carpe diem. Be aware of the chances life might give you, leave all doors open to get to the next level of live. But don’t forget to live now, enjoy now.
Whether it’s a young friend, your grandfather, a colleague or an old high-school lover, nobody’s death is reason to stop living. Your loss should make you feel alive. My purpose in life, is making sure the early dead of these 3, wasn’t useless, by living.