If you don't find me when I am struggling for my final breath, know that it wasn't hard for me knowing that I am dying. So don't make it hard for yourself to accept the fact that I died.
Know that I didn't think of all the miseries life dragged me into, but of sunsets, sky, birds, trees and people, and how they made my heart leap up to be thankful that I got to experience them even in an infinitesimal possibility.
If I am no more there tomorrow, keep me safe in a corner of your memories, and cherish me alive at least in you, think of me when you watch the sun go down the horizon, or when stars show periodicity in their patterns. And when you behold the autumn sky in the night, know that this very state of sky once gave me the feeling of being insignificant and yet special, and in thinking about that, I hope you feel blessed too.
Keep me alive in your talks and gestures. For darling, the thought of dying isn't as haunting as the thought of you not reminiscing me after I am gone. It is not as hard to accept that my experiences will die with me, as it is to think that I may not have a space in your remembrance to tell the tales of my existence. It is disturbing, though it is the eternal truth that the earth can wipe up your existence just as effortlessly as it can sprout life, but it is with people to be the custodian of existence of people they loved, to be the savior of the stories of their existence and to not let them die even though they have been long gone.
How blissful it is to be alive in others! I hope that the kindness that I showed you continues to live in the corner of your gratitude, that the love I had for you gets a little space in your heart for you to bestow upon others. And for life's sake, don't ever think it vain of me to want to live after my death. I don't wish to live forever, but I wonder if you would breathe life in the memories of me in you, if you would let me live only as long as you do.
After that, it's okay to not have a space in the memories of people who live, it's okay to not have the tales of my existence told. For I would then be glad to have returned to earth- to dust, from where it all began.
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