I had a good life.

There's no doubt about the life I had, though there's some regrets, some things I'd like to change, it was still a good one.

I'm not entirely sad that my end has come, a little scared,

But,

You know,

That's normal.

To whoever finds this I'd like you to never burn or destroy it, at least let me live on in something, even if it is some ripped up paper.

Isn't it everyone's dream to leave a little bit of themselves upon the living?

I lied before, you know, when I said I was only a little scared.

I'm terrified as my time drags nearer. I find that even in the end we struggle to stay alive.

And I guess I'm not as embarrassed to say it now that my time has come,

I'm afraid to die.

I don't want to die.