🅿🅰🆁🅺🅴🆁
The day of my death had been the happiest one of my life.
I had woken up that morning feeling different. Something inside of me had changed. The way too familiar hate I used to always carry around like a shadow was gone, it had simply disappeared overnight and I didn't bother questioning it.
1 - I felt free.
When I got to school I noticed that my ex-girlfriend had finally given up trying to talk to me. Instead of calling every other hour and waiting after classes, she was now acting as if I didn't exist. It was liberating and proved once again that I could get away with literally anything.
2 - I felt invincible.
The day of my death was also the day one of my teachers came up to me to share some big news. He taught my favorite subject - physics. Physics was logical, exciting and different. It was the only class I actually got good grades in.
My teacher had told me about a new scholarship program. I would have to compete with an essay on a topic of my choice. And he told me I had good chances.
3 - I felt important.
The night of my death I had met with a couple of my friends, ready to get drunk and party down at Bluewoods Lake. One had brought beer, another vodka and I myself had supplied some cheap gin to blow my brain out.
We didn't do much that night. We just sat around in the cold grass, listening to a shared Spotifly playlist, talking and laughing while chugging plastic cup after plastic cup.
Sooner or later the others started to doze off. I didn't. Something had changed inside of me. I was finally able to imagine a future.
I could go to college, become a rocket scientist or astronomer. I could get a wife, make a million, see the world. All these crazy plans finally made it seem like life was worth living.
4 - I felt hopeful.
I wanted to celebrate. Celebrate as much as I can. Drink by drink. Bottle after bottle. I wanted to sing, dance and never stop. Even once I started struggling to breathe, when my heart stopped beating for seconds at a time, I wasn't scared and instead kept going.
5 - I felt...happy.
So why was the day I cared the most about my life the day I had to die?
Was it karma?