You avoid it.
You avoid it like you avoid that group of hooded teens prowling the night.
You avoid it like you avoid insults that are thrown at you faster and sharper than knives being hurtled towards you.
You avoid it like you avoided going to Science class in school because you knew the people there would hurt you and try to make your life hell.
You try to avoid it, but eventually it will come and find you, like a boomerang returning to its owner after a long cycle in the air and it will come find you like that bitchy comment you made about your friend Maureece in the 7th grade comes back and finds you when you start to argue about who was right and who was wrong.
You avoid it, but you need to stop avoiding it. Because really, what good will avoiding it do.
Yeah, it'll relieve you of temporary pain. But do you know what else will do that? Paracetamol. Candle lit baths. A hot chocolate. Amputating your arm so that bruise doesn't hurt as much anymore. The laugh of a friend. The soft sound of your favourite song playing in the background. And death.
But you have to face it somehow, you have to face it sooner or later.
Because one day you'll grow up and someone will ask you what happened when they died, and you won't know what to say because for the last 10 years you cut the words out of your vocabulary like you never even knew they existed.
You don't want that.
You want to look up with a brave face, knowing that after all the pain you went through with their loss, you can at least face what happened with a smile, a memory and some strength in your voice.
Because when your kids ask you, why did he die so young, why things were okay one day but suddenly werent the next. Will that happen to me to? Will that happen to you? Why only around 6% of people who have heart attacks outside of a hospital survive and why he had to be one of the unucky 94?
You don't want to blank. You don't want to be afraid.
Just like his heart wasn't afraid to fail, you don't want to be afraid too.
