Before I die.
When I say those words aloud my breath catches fire. Hot sparks burn within my heart and dance up my throat. Fear binds around my veins pumping blood ferociously to each creased and mapped out story on my skin.
Before I die — my virulence, a genuine concern.
Perhaps I spend too much time fearing death. Wasting precious time making up lists of atmospheres I pain to encounter before I die.
Although the ache to feel what pleases my soul burns so indignant, I am petrified I won’t experience its tempered arousal before I am taken from this earth.
My heart aches for passion in its endless and authentic form. There are people I am drawn to for unknown reasons other than my heart begs to be near them. Emotions I solicit so intensely, I often visit them in my dreams.
My bucket list is made up of vibrations, moments, tastes and feelings. Flashes I play in my head like the scenes from a movie. Compassion I crave with one person or another. I do not fill my before-I-die-list with things, but with bits of living.
While I live.
None of us knows how much time we have here on earth. Life is short. Years creep slowly, then fast. I often find myself wondering where the time has gone.
Before I die.
My story so far is nothing like I thought it would be. In my twenties, I had a plan, a destination. A place I thought I would be before I arrived here. Here, being forty. Here, being lost inside myself some days and blissful others.
Here. With no expectations of who I am supposed to be. At least, not anymore.
My life may not have turned out as I planned. Amidst twists and turns, I travelled unknown roads. The lines on my face reflect every bump I smashed into as well as every cloud I floated upon. These wrinkles are made of love, hurt, joy, heart-wrenching pain, anger, deceit, shame, angst, uncertainty, hope, worry, disgust, euphoria, every emotion I’ve ever let touch my soul. I earned these ridges on my façade…while I lived.
While I live. Before I die.
Before I die. I yearn to lay on a white sand beach while gazing at the stars. To feel the lap of the ocean at my toes as I hold the hand of my person. To softly caress their palm with my index finger indicating to them I feel them undeviatingly bounded to my soul.
While I live. I will give all of me, in every moment, to the ones I love utmost.
Before I die. I crave to run naked through the snow with my soul mate, catching snowflakes on our tongues, eventually landing on the billowy crystals ignoring the chill in our bones.
While I live. I will remember to seek joy in the smallest of pains while welcoming my sensations with the silly joyful truths.
Before I die. I ache to waste a Sunday in bed with somebody who wouldn’t dare require anything but to watch old cartoons and wrap themselves around me. Laughing so deeply our belly’s hurt and our jaws burn from beaming with the comfort of one another.
While I live. I will cherish time but recognise – no moment is wasted, not with the ones you love.
Before I die. I beg to stand at the top of a mountain with someone, screaming our pains into the world. Waging war against nature’s silence as to cleanse ourselves of the harm we have once felt. Sensing nothing but flawless and utter comfort with one another in a gushing unprepared moment.
While I live. I will wipe virgin tears falling from a beloved’s face as they pour themselves into my arms.
Before I die. I cherish the thought of standing at the foot of a library with someone who relishes my capacity to discover old books. To please their eyes with my sincerity as I caress the pages and breathe in the smell of old paper and hard bound syllabuses.
While I live. I will remember to appreciate what others require to nourish their soul. To love and apprehend what widens their eyes and brings light to their heart.
The words — before I die, now touch my spine with chilling impressions and a truth-stained mortality.
Before I die — a bucket list of dreams. Ardent moments I wish to crowd inside my soul. Like stars calling out my name in the dead of night — before I die — is how I once described my heart-home. The words I used to verbalise an ache inside me. An extensive list of needs tantalising each cell in my body. Dreams, I realise I should reach for, while I live.
Today as I gaze into the mirror – noting the stories lined into my skin, I apprehend these wrinkles are the map of my life…While I live.