What Does It Mean to Live?

A friend I used to work with has passed away.

She quietly chose to leave this world.

I don’t know the details. But what I do know, without a doubt, is that we will never meet again.

The reality of it feels even less tangible than I had imagined, and I still can’t seem to find the right words to express it.

It would probably be easy to sum it all up with just one word — “sad.”

But the feeling left deep in my heart is far more complicated than that.

When my grandfather passed away, it felt like he had crossed a finish line.

After battling cancer for so long, it seemed he had completed his marathon of life — and somehow, I could accept that.

But losing a friend who was my own age feels different.

It’s like a fluorescent light that had always been there, quietly above me, suddenly popping and going out without warning.

Something that should have been there is gone — and only now, after it has disappeared, do I realize how much space it filled.

I don’t know what she was carrying inside.

I don’t want to pry either.

But ever since her passing, I haven't been able to stop thinking about what it means to live — and what it means to stop living.

We weren’t so close that I could call her a best friend, but we would see each other a few times a year.

In my mind, she was someone who was always cheerful, loved having fun, a little spontaneous, and full of energy — the kind of person who would throw a party.

She had lots of friends, a kind-looking boyfriend, a job that seemed to be going well — everything seemed so perfect.

I don’t even know if she had any worries.

But now I feel certain: behind that beautiful smile, she must have been carrying things she never showed anyone.

What does it mean to live?

Is it about not giving up on yourself?

Or is it about continuing to search for meaning in your life?

As each day comes rushing in, over and over again,

how do we greet the morning without giving up on being alive?

I’ve never once thought, "I want to die."

But maybe the reason I wanted to create a mental health community

was because I wanted to help even one less person ever feel that way.

Because I wanted to put into words, “You’re going to be okay,” and deliver a little nourishment to the heart.

I know I’ll never be a superhero who can save someone completely.

But I believe that each of us has the power to be the kind of person who makes someone pause, even for just a moment, and take a breath.

And I want to use that small power as much as I can, to live.

We can’t live completely alone.

Even when we're surrounded by people, we can still feel lonely.

And sometimes, it’s because we’re with others that we end up hurt.

But even so, somewhere in this vast world,

there is surely a place where you belong,

and feelings you can share.

Please don’t forget that.

There’s no simple answer.

Maybe she could have been saved.

Maybe she never wanted to be saved.

The sadness I feel now isn’t meaningless.

But still, if only I had said “thank you” or “you’re doing great” a little more while she was alive.

Even if it wouldn’t have changed anything,

maybe there was still something more I could have done.

What those of us who are left behind can do,

is to gently stay close to one another.

I want to reach out within the small circle I can reach.

If you, reading this now, are struggling, please don’t carry it all alone.

Anytime, you can message "Tsumugi’s" DMs.

We’re not anyone special — but we want to connect with you.

Like a small flower blooming quietly by the roadside,

I hope we can be a presence that watches over your everyday life.

Evalina, I’m sorry I couldn’t notice your pain while you were alive.

I’ll be waiting for another party invitation from you in heaven.

Kanae

@kanaesawaguchi