I might be dying and falling in love at the same time. However, I’m unsure of how quickly I’m approaching my death, and how real this love is. What’s certain, though, is that I’m lost. But, as I always say, being lost is a free pass to explore. I’ve enjoyed going on walks by myself. There’s a chill in the air, which reminds me of when I would go for runs in the forest near home. The leaves painted the trails, and the birds took me places I couldn’t. The world would be so white without the colors, without nature and the cars. Maybe it’s because deep down I firmly believe that all of this will soon pass. I won’t be here forever, and if this were it, I suppose that would be enough. Eighteen years of education, most of which I facilitated. Four years and counting of health struggles. Currently, I’m doing all I can to survive. But, I don’t wish to be melancholy. I am so sure of some things. For example, I know for certain that I don’t wish to disappear. I’m also sure that I want to find her, marry her, and start a family. And, I know that I’m going to change. My own mind is going to change sooner or later. It’s already begun. But, each day, I feel myself getting further and further away from something and closer and closer to another. I saw her last night. She was different this time, cold and guilty, but I loved her nonetheless. It was as if half of me had fallen to the ground and gotten bruised, and the other half was watching unable to pick itself up out of the street. The clock said it was three in the morning, but I knew it was ten after, which is precisely when I realized I was dreaming. I woke to ponder all that I had merely imagined, and sadness filled me, for I felt as if this affectionate affair was only silence to be lost in the leaves. But, who decides what’s reality and what’s not? I do. I’ve decided that I’m dying and falling in love at the same time.