“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.” ― Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close

Imagine a book in front of you.

It's not a new book; the spine is a little worn from being opened and closed often and the vibrancy of the colors on the covers are somewhat faded. Maybe it has a coffee stain on the bottom right corner from your morning ritual, during which you often wish you had a mug bigger than your head to drink from. Maybe there's a small green smudge on the title page from where you left it lying in the grass like an upside down bird. Or maybe there's a few dog-ears in places you love to look back on the most.

This book smells familiar, too. It's not that dry, crisply clean scent a brand new book has, though. It's not musty and mysterious either, though. It's that kind of aroma that floats adrift in the background, amplified when you bury your face into the sleeve of your favorite sweatshirt or when you leave the window ajar and take a deep breath.

It's stipulated that it's an extremely, extremely limited edition. So limited, actually, that there's only one in existence.

Yes, this is the story of your life. How cliché, right?

Except that it's not; it's your life's narrative. Nothing like it will ever be told again. Sure, there will definitely be similarities to others' stories. That's an unfortunate side effect of being a species with 99.5% genetic universality. It's like having a twin... but to the tune of roughly 7.35 billion of them.

But that's just the point. Yours is 1 in ~7,350,000,000 stories currently in progress. It's 1 in ~108,000,000,000 presently in Earth's library. And it's 1 in a hitherto unknown number that will ever crowd those shelves.

However, your tale will be recognized by more than just you. Some will invariably be more well-known than others. Don't get me wrong, your story would surely be a bestseller were it not the only member of its species. You could always make it into a series or even a film adaptation if you wanted. But never fear: your journey will never be subject to an appalling fanfiction à laFifty Shades of Grey, nor remotely as atrociously written as its a-muse-ing predecessor, the Twilight tetralogy (my sincerest apologies to Cullen Fan Cub members). I promise that no matter what, it'll receive rave reviews.

The very beginning of your book will have a foreword; it'll be a somewhat generic introduction provided by someone who saw you through your formative years, until the point where your handwriting was more legible than gobbledygook. Don't worry, the prologue won't be in Comic Sans. Unless, of course, you're one of the odd ducks who like it.

From that point on, you're running the show. Maybe you'll decide to add lots of illustrations. Maybe you'll make yourself the superhero. Or maybe you'll even choose to use a fantastical twist or the drama of a thriller.

It's yours.

The best stories are the ones that make us human. That is to say, the ones that make us think, feel, and act. Contrary to common childhood convictions, the sun doesn't wear sunglasses because it's hip and ironic, and the moon isn't made of cheese, even though it does a remarkable impression of a piece of Swiss. Humans have the capacity to be cruel, just as they do to be kind. It's totally possible to cry because you're laughing or to not realize you're calling your elusive phone with none other than the phone itself. Life ends, and it ends inevitably. Sadly, death can be premature, unnatural, or unknown. A last breath can follow infinite others that felt as final because of fear or pain. And fear and pain can become so omnipresent that they'd almost be comforting were they not excruciating. Yet, in spite of all this darkness, there is also light. We wouldn't be able to truly see the real resplendent beauty of life, even when it reaches its close, were it not for knowing the bleakest of shadows. This juxtaposition of opposites occurs everywhere, to everything and everyone. And unlike the unfortunate aforementioned E.L. James creations might suggest, there aren't only fifty shades of grey.

There are limitless. Light and dark constantly fluctuate, fighting and melding with one another. Every time, this results in grey, but every time, it varies. Feelings, emotions, learning, relationships, sensations, dreams, heartbreaks, sunrises, sunsets, and yes, life and death; every time, they are similar, but every time, they are simultaneously unique.

And so too are our stories. There are innumerable twists and turns they could take; countless paths we could walk. Like the quote says, there are infinite lives we could live... though we can only live one of them. Sometimes, that weighs heavy.

So imagine your book sitting in front of you. Pick it up. Notice how you feel lighter despite it.

Then open its pages, but this time, as if it were a bird preparing to fly. Let yourself, too, become as light as a bird.

And soar.