I always thought that I would die young. My mother died at 36 (when I was 17) and I was obsessed with the thought that I would die when I was 36, of breast cancer, like she did. I didn't, and honestly, I don't know if I am happy about that or not. Sometimes, it just seems like it would have been so much easier. Life is really not easy, at least, for some of us, and sometimes I wonder, what is it all for?