My biggest fear in life is being alone.
Having my parents and my brother pass before I do,
leaving me to face the great unknown,
all by myself.

It happened to my father.

Inevitably, there will come a point where one voice fades,
then another,
until only a single one remains.
More space on the couch and
less food in the fridge.
I should like to go first,
though somehow it is a selfish wish.
That I might never know such a great loss,
and instead be it.

Going last means I shall spare them from the pain of losing me.
In return, I carry the pain of losing all of them.
I do not wish to be alone and yet I do not wish
to leave someone else alone.

And so I linger in this thought,
Caught between two unbearable choices.