We walked through the serene graveyard, admiring some of the stones and reflecting on the other types of graveyards found in the world. I looked at the stones and felt afraid.
“I feel weird. Not because I think it is creepy though.”
“Well, we have all had to say good-bye to someone at a grave site,” he said kindly.
“Yes, but that is not what I meant.”
“Sorry, I hope that made sense.”
“Oh, it definitely did. I just meant something else.”
“Haha all right then…” laughed her other friend.
What I really meant was that I felt strange, because I could have been resting in a graveyard had I committed suicide back in the winter, or a couple of weeks ago. I was afraid because I was nowhere near wanting to end my life, but yet I wondered when the next feeling of hopelessness and finality would come.
I am so scared.