Dying to Live

I replay the image inside my head over and over again as I sip my

sigh to escape and finish the entire mug of coffee. I’ve spent the last week wallowing in self-despair, and

om beside me. I glance over, realizing she’s sat

ons coursing through me, and they’re all giving me whiplash,”

us curve balls and we have to learn how to not strike

analogy to describe my sickness?”

so used to your Dad a

s only 20 years old. He was coming home late from work one night when a drunk driver

the beach? Your father insisted on buying you as many churros as you

s,” I remember. Mom l

d cold talking about Dad. It’s like two battling currents right before the start of a tornado. “I’m terrified, Mom. I don’t know how to see t

g to be okay, my sw

ld much weight, but the thought still

ous movie marathons,” Mom suddenly

fills our coffee mugs while I browse Netflix. We settle on a decent selection and spend the afternoon g

. I cock one eyebrow, urging her to go on. “You should s

t people who use Tinder and Bumble. Besides, didn’t I just get out of an agonizin

od point in my life to be dating,” I reply un

ve in the present. Why shouldn’t you make the most of life and have a little fun?” she argues. I lis

excited sm

re right. I

best selfies from my camera roll. Then, Mom and I come up wi

set up, I explain t

I’m not, I swipe left. If me and the guy

ic light in her

view the first person. His name is Evan, and he’s a mechanic at

tes before swiping left. The next eligible bachelor is Greg, a 25-year-old cat lo

talian food. Before I can even make my decision, Mom reaches over and

his dating app is feeling too real. Right as I’m starting to second guess my

x have matc

tement, the adrenaline co

z, my mind racing for all

line. Guys love that,” Mom says.

true,” I muse, receivi

ss send, following Mom’s advice after all. Not even two min

a sense of humor. D

out a shriek and s

rges. I chuckle and type quickly,

rld. Let’s do seven o’clock a

or see Alexander again. Nonetheless, a chill runs down m