Living Like There’s No Tomorrow

Death is one of those things we all know is coming, yet most people spend their lives pretending it won’t happen. But I can’t ignore it. I’ve seen it up close, and I’ve carried the weight of knowing how quickly life can be ripped away.

Serving in the military changes how you see the world. It forces you to accept that life is fragile—more fragile than we want to admit. One moment, you’re joking with someone, and the next, they’re gone. No grand exit. No time to say goodbye. Just gone. That changes you. It makes you question everything. It makes you realize that every second matters because there are no guarantees. You can’t bank on a future that may never come. That’s why I believe in living each day like it’s my last—because one day, it will be.

But what comes after? That’s where it gets complicated.

I was raised in a faith that promised an afterlife—a place where good people go when they die. But as a gay man, that promise has never really felt like it included me. It’s hard to reconcile the idea of a loving God when so many of His followers insist that people like me don’t belong in His kingdom. How do you put faith in an afterlife that you’ve been told you’re not invited to?

I still believe in something greater than myself, but I don’t pretend to have the answers. Maybe there’s a heaven. Maybe there’s reincarnation. Maybe there’s just silence. What I do know is that religion—especially within the Abrahamic faiths—has spent more time trying to dictate who belongs where after death than focusing on how we should treat each other while we’re alive. And that’s where I take issue.

Because how we treat people today matters.

Our words and actions don’t just affect us—they affect the people around us in ways we may never fully understand. One act of kindness, one moment of real human connection, can completely alter someone’s life. The same goes for cruelty. You may forget a harsh word you spoke in anger, but the person on the receiving end might carry that wound forever.

That’s why I believe in leading with love and compassion. That doesn’t mean I’m a pacifist—I believe in standing your ground and defending what’s right. But at the end of the day, love will always outlast hate. Love will always mean more. And if death has taught me anything, it’s that the only thing we leave behind is the way we made people feel.

So I choose to live. To love. To be present. To say what needs to be said, to take the risks, to chase the dreams, to embrace the people I care about like it’s the last time—because one day, it will be.

And when that day comes, I want to know I didn’t waste a second.