A.

"You must remember to die."

It was one of the first phrases I had been taught in French at a young age. As if I'd want to live so much that I'd forget to do the inevitable. A testimony to appreciate life because there was so little to be lived, to live in the present because the future isn't promised. Lost in the clippings of the mundane day-to-day activities as I dare to lay my head to rest at night, how dare I not seize every second that is laid out in front of me.

"You must remember to die."

It was a whisper that haunted me as a child, and even more as an adult. A whisper that I carried like a hatchet everywhere I went, perforating the words into the necks of those around me. But as that continued, I've yearned more and more to live as if I was dying tomorrow. An obsession that kept me on my feet, making sleep irrelevant, making me more irritable. In fact, I believe I lived so hard that my current self can only remember it like a car that zips past your passenger window, fleeting.

"You must remember to die."

My uncle had kept that one alive, showing me that to live is to consume knowledge. To consume experiences, yourself, people. I consumed it all, every experience that life had to offer, never shutting anyone down. I was an adolescent saying yes to things that could've had me killed, or had me kill myself on accident just for the pure joy of remembering to live right now. I'm living, right now.

I'm consuming, right now. I've managed to consume almost every media on topics that people cannot understand, I was my own enemy, and therefore I accept the pain I caused myself. Turning it into knowledge for others, allowing them to feed off me like vultures in hopes it will make the next person appreciate life. Except, I've failed that study countless times.

I cannot, get close, to people.

It is not the anxiousness of making friends like you've said, it is a hunger that scares me. A clash with the already altered chemicals of my brain, a hunger that's been medicated out of me since I was ripely 16.

I cannot consume people, as if I would die tomorrow.

It makes me feel as if my brain is being lobotomized, People are such delicate creatures, obsession is no way to care for them. They need air, and connections with others, not solitude. Therefore, I watch from afar, like a raven on a branch. Watching them interact, enjoy the presence of others, my social skills have suffered greatly from this, keeping a conversation merely makes me weak, out of breath-- panicked.

"You must remember to die."

Oh, sometimes I wish my uncle had kept his mouth shut all those years. Such a proclaimed writer with such a fowl, demented mouth. But by that time, I've gotten excited, wreck less, and their eyes are on me. And suddenly, dipping my toes into the sun seems a lot easier than pressing forward. It begins a tango that I am no good at, I am no dancer.

But somehow, I get pulled into the dance anyway.

Connection feels like I am being force-fed everything about a person. My body feels incredibly too close, and they spit their word-vomiting-self-descriptors down my throat like a kiss on the third date. But like most food, once you eat it long enough, some part of your brain convinces you that you enjoy it, and you want to continue to eat it. Eventually, my lips are more relaxed, and I take everything they say about themselves with more meaning than the previous day.

I've recently conducted a study where I've forced myself to be in the presence of multiple people at once. I should, honestly, say multiple studies, for it was one (1) on myself and two (2) on the people I've selected to speak to. It was a study about the game, werewolf. Or, mafia if you're that type of person. These were complete strangers to me, all of them. And for the sake of removing as much bias as possible, I would identify myself in the game as the mediator.

"You must remember to die."

Yes, yes I know. That's why I've hyper-exposed myself to 20-plus people and separated them into control groups. Control group A would be the werewolves/mafia, and their dances were the most violent, pressing. Like claws digging into my hair as they force-fed me every irrelevant thing in their life, trailing off the topic multiple times and leaving me gasping for air by the time the dance was over. I felt equivalent to being ran over by a truck, barely being able to keep up the control group B afterwards.

Control group B was gratefully gentler, except I slipped up and added one... measly bias but it wasn't one that would affect results. So, I kept it. Mostly due to the tango starting almost immediately, it felt as if I was walking away from the stage when my wrist was nearly yanked off my arm. I didn't mind it, just a more embarrassingly chaotic start that I would like to admit to.

"You must remember to die."

Correct, but the study. You see, I've found that while control group A loves the power they hold over people, control group B is indifferent. The kisses of self-description is minimal with this group, and I find myself breathing a lot easier. But I can't consume people, I get incredibly too attached and will devour them whole. I'll sit on the stage with their guts all over my face,

"Oh... A. Have you eaten a friend again?"

I just want to form a connection to someone.

But I get too excited, and I pull them too close,

And suddenly my mouth is open, and my teeth are in their flesh,

I get too excited and I'll,

Eat them.

So please,

Remember you must die,