Pain. That's all I felt. As though my head split open and every nerve inside my body decided to destroy itself in the process.

My life flashed before me. Who I am now, and who I was going to be.

Often I've had the thought, my future self would be thankful if I did that work-out, ate better, meditated, made faster decisions, lived more, and regretted less. If I wasn't so scared to try things and step out of my comfort zone maybe I wouldn't feel as though life had practically halted to a standstill. Stagnant.

Often I've pushed all the work to my future self and let me tell you, I was never happy with my past self for doing that.

Whether it was writing that paper, applying for that job, telling my best friend I've loved him as long as I can remember knowing what love is, getting over my best friend because he already has someone, asking that cute guy or girl out, coming out to my parents, reading that book, quitting this major that's sucking the life out of me... Everything.

In trying to avoid the discomfort of putting in effort now, and just trying... I have ended up not living my life.

I've studied healing magic to become a doctor, because that's what my parents wanted me to do.

I never told my best friend I loved him because I feared rejection, breaking our friendship. I knew he couldn't feel the same for me because he was straight, but at least I could move on. Or try to.

I've known I needed to do something about my weight for a very long time. I've been at risk for so many diseases I couldn't even begin to list them. It's one thing being slightly overweight, and another being obese, and another yet being morbidly obese. It was never even about looking good for other people, but just taking care of myself.

Despite that, I rarely if ever did.

I think if you hate yourself, like I do, you have more trouble taking care of yourself.

I never came out to my parents as bi, because that is not something that exists to them. The very notion that their only son could play for both teams? Ha. Though I still held the hope that one day things would be different, and they would accept me for who I am.

I saw the life I would lead.

I became a healer and eventually became a physician at the Royal Palace. Just because it wasn't a job I wanted to do, doesn't mean I wasn't good. In fact, being good is why my parents pushed me in this direction.

I never married, and instead lived my life moving from person to person never settling. They didn't stay and I wouldn't let them when some of them tried. What they wanted was a connection to the Royal Palace, my family, access to my skills, money and my magic. I had enough of it to go around, so I didn't mind even when their intentions couldn't be more obvious. I honestly didn't care. Living a half life does that to you.

I never got over my best friend, even though he ended up marrying his university sweetheart and had the picture perfect family with her. We slowly fell out of touch because the bitterness and jealousy overwhelmed me. I didn't want to do something that would end up hurting them, so it was better I left.

Although I never came out to my parents, my exploits earned me quite a name. They found out I liked both guys and girls, and they broke off all relations with me. When they attended a ball at the Royal Palace, they would always ignore my existence.

Even as they were dying, they refused to let me look after them.

What was even the point then?

I did what I had to do to keep my job. I was good at it, but it was never my calling. If it was going to turn out like this then I may as well have done whatever the hell I wanted.

I would never feel that regret more acutely than when I was tried for treason and attempted regicide.

One day a concoction I had brewed for the Emperor and Empress was switched out. A fertility potion that would help the pair be more likely to get pregnant. I didn't know who switched the potions out, but next thing I knew, the Empress was dying and I was dragged from my chambers in a frenzy.

I never even had the chance to explain myself. I was sent to be hanged by the morning. If my family hadn't died already, if I had any offspring, then they too would have been killed.

I still remember the look in His eyes, the hatred. Ed never did like me, all the way back from when we went to school together.

I never felt comfortable calling my quarters at the Royal Palace my home. That was in large part due to His Highness Ed Ludwig II. He hated me, he always had. I don't know what it was about me that pissed him off, but he couldn't stand the sight of me. Thus, whenever he would pass by me in the halls or at balls, when my expertise was needed, I felt as though a single wrong move would result in my head being sliced off. In the end, I wasn't too far off with that.

I've always wanted to study magic and diplomacy. Not healing magic, but battle and earth magic. I didn't have the physique or mental aptitude for it, but strategy is something that would make my heart sing and the state of our world needed more study than ever as we constantly misused our available resources.

I never pursued it in university because my parents were vehemently against it. As a Noble putting yourself in a position where you could lose your life went against every single one of their beliefs. Let alone study something as woowoo-like as Earth magic. That was reserved for hippies and hipsters.

It was much more profitable and enviable to be physician. Therefore, that was what I must become. I did. It wasn't enough, it never was.

The funny thing is, it's not even the hanging that killed me. I died long before that in my jail cell as I cursed my past self out.

It was a heart attack.

In the end what took my life was a heart attack that was long coming. By the time help would arrive, I would be long dead.

As the pain in my head subsided and the memories assimilated themselves within my brain, I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Well.

Didn't see that coming.