It wasn�t because I wanted to die. No, I was already going. It wasn�t because I couldn�t bare to live this life. No, it was already gone. I couldn�t do what I had seen so many times. I didn�t have the strength to feel my strength failing. I didn�t have the will to watch my will falling. I couldn�t take my gray pallor, or my horse voice. The drugs were the easiest way. It was like slipping, or gliding through water, so smooth and cool. The hot tea helped, and the voices of all my memories were even better. Childhood laughter, late night gossip, first date, first kiss. It was my life flashing before my eyes, as they say. But it wasn�t painful. It wasn�t horrible to watch. I didn�t feel any regret or sadness. These were my friends saying their last goodbye. These were my family�s soft kisses on my cheeks. These were the moments I chose not to have. My memory of my parents waving me off down the road as I headed for collage, blending with both of them welcoming me into their arms again in a different world.
