I Don’t Want To Die

By Jose Berger

Sometimes, when dread always holds my hands tightly and the right tune is playing in the back of my neurological network, I reminisce about that summer in high school.
I had just decided that I would learn to speak and write Japanese.
To that end, I would stay up late at night, watching Studio Ghibli movies.

With a notebook and pencil in hand, I would write whatever word I could recognize.
I can picture the kid, sitting down at the edge of his worn out, twin-sized mattress with Spider-Man sheets.
His chapped lips were stretched to make a certain shape.
His baggy eyes were wide open.
His bony cheeks were lifted.
Oh, I see.
He was smiling.
And somehow, it feels genuine.

It makes me wonder:
What would he think of me now?
I wish I could say that we accomplished everything we hoped for…
That’s not the case.
Would he, however, point out all the good he sees in me?
All that he thinks I’ve accomplished?
Would he offer me the hope he wished he had?
Would he tell me everything will be okay?
Would he recognize himself in me?

Perhaps it not the summer that I miss, but how he felt.
How I felt.
Or at least, partially.

You see, he thought he wanted to die.
To leave this physical realm of existence because he wasn’t worthy of the atoms he was blessed with.
Although he, sometimes always wants to die to this day, I recognize now that Death is not what he sought.

What did he seek then?
Well, what we all seek:
To feel comfortable in our skin.

Yes, he didn’t want to die.
He merely wanted a hug, but not just any hug.
A hug from the heavens that would scream, “You are okay.”
As if all his flaws are meant to be.
As if he was still chosen in despite of his shortcomings.
Nothing against the heavens or the Lord up above, for there’s a space that nothing and no else can fill, but that hug may or may not arrive.
What does it depend on?
It depends on…
You.
Me.
Us.

Now, you may wonder, if you have made it this far, whether he has learned to give himself that hug.
Not quite, but I think he’s getting closer each day that passes.
Like a heartbeat on a heart monitor, his progress is not linear.
Yet, he doesn’t forget Dory’s words:
Just keep swimming.
Just.
Keep.
Swimming.

Something we all know deep down?
Yes, nobody wants to die.
I don’t want to die.

Jose Berger Biography
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Jose Carlos Berger Perez (he/his) was born in Esteli, Nicaragua and moved to the United States of America in 2014 due to personal struggles involving mental illness. After earning his bachelor’s degree in chemistry from the University of Central Florida, he decided to pursue a doctoral degree in inorganic chemistry in Gainesville, Florida. Although always a poetry enthusiast, Gainesville would be the catalyst for his growth as a creator. Diagnosed with Major Depressive disorder and Bipolar II disorder, his pieces touch upon themes of death, life, mental illness, science, popular culture, growth, mourning, progress, expectations, and religion, among others. Although he has never published his work before, he wishes to share his work with others in hopes that they may realize they are not alone in this challenging journey.