From the time I was child to the present, I wasn't really all that scared of death.

In fact I never thought of death as the gateway to many dimensions nor did I thought of it as a biological end of all life on Earth. I just thought it was nothing more then sleep

A deep eternal sleep and we all dream of which place we want to head into. For some it could be a place filled with fire and torment. Damned into a world where peace is an unattainable prize, and a creature who's main joy is the suffering of others. For some it's a place within the clouds. Completely in content with their new life while they look below, watching their loved ones as they too persevere through life and reach their goals before they too join them in the afterlife.

Either way the dead sleep. Their dreams become their new reality depending what had transpired in their old life and the stories they have left behind. Proud or not it stuck to them in their graves.

That was my ideal form of death. Even when I went through so many near death experiences and had went to so many funerals. I held onto it so tightly you can imagine me chocking it. And because of it I was never scared, but I never understood why was it such a scary topic for some.

It never changed until August, 9, 2015. The day my mom passed away. The feeling of loss hurted me so bad mental breakdowns became a normal cause. I was the only one in my family who took it so hard because she was almost everything to me in my life. Even though she wasn't all that perfect (if anything she was horrible parent) but she was mother and despite what she did to me, to us, she tried to fix what she had broken. At the very least to the very end she tried.

It's almost three years since her passing and her death is what changed my perception. Death still doesn't scare me, it simply made me sad. It made me sad because the people they impacted are torn, devastated. I cry for the ones who lost a child, a father, a mother, a grandmother, a grandfather, an aunt or an uncle because I knew what it feels like. A deep gigantic hole carved into your heart, where half of your soul is taken by them and life itself began to lose its true meaning.

I understand it by nature and sympathize when others go through what I have. Which is why I cry if I do find out when I'm going to die. Not out of fear, but out of sadness. Because I know there are people who will miss me, who will cry every night for me, wishing they can see me one last time.

Even when I'm unloved by my current family, betrayed by people who considered me as a friend and let go of those hurted more then once and in many ways then just physical. Even when the world moved on, forgot about me, I know that I have made my mark on the world, my story will be told through the eyes of another and my existence will live on through those who still remember me.