The Life You Never Lived
You walk into a funeral and find your own photograph beside the coffin. Everyone is mourning the life you could have lived — the risks you never took, the places you never went, the person you never became
Everyone at this funeral knows your name
You don’t even know who died
Still everyone keeps looking at you like
you’re the one they’ve been waiting for.
A man near the front stands. “He built something people said would never work”
Someone behind you whispers: “He finally became the person he used to talk about becoming.”
Then you suddenly notice the photograph beside the coffin.
It’s you.
Older.Happier.
Like you became everything you keep promising yourself you’ll become
Before you can ask Quinn another question, someone stands.
“My name is Avery. I owe my life to him”
She points to your photograph
“Because one night, he almost gave up on something he hadn’t even started yet.”
You have no memory of ever meeting her
Quinn opens the coffin
Empty.
“No one died.”
“This is the funeral for the life you keep postponing.”
Every time you chose what others expected.
Every time you waited to feel ready.
Every time you said “later.”
“You buried a little more of it.”
Quinn looks at you.
“But you’re still here.”
“So this isn’t a funeral?”
“Not yet”
“Go live before it becomes one”