Long before, when the stars shone in greater numbers than any could hope to count and the seas were tame, the land was divided into factions with collections of cities where few powerful rulers stood. They utilized the seas for trade, travel, and war—spreading their power across the land to places never seen. 

Then the stars fell and the seas turned wicked. 

None alive today remember the fall, but lessons are taught by those who tell tales from those who did witness it. 

— 

We pretend that we live in a world of harsh edges; however, there are no borders between things. These boundaries we put up are imaginary, simply created for society’s convenience. Whether it is growing up, becoming an adult, or getting a job, they’re not destinations or achievements to unlock, for life isn’t a video game—it’s a journey. 

For so long, I tried to reach the boundaries of tomorrow; however, the difference between 11:59 PM and 12:00 AM is blurred, and the days feel the same. The skies remain dark and the people remain asleep (or in my case, sleepless). The only indications of a new day are the reset of a clock or the gradual exposure of light. But we still call it a new day, even if it doesn’t happen in an instant.  

Since elementary school I would stay up as late as possible, not because I didn’t like the idea of a new day, but rather I hated the idea of an old one ending. For there are many more hours, minutes, seconds in a day; why should I spend it sleeping? Curled underneath the sheets of my bed I laid awake with my hands clenched around the pages of a book, hoping to squeeze one last bit of excitement within my day. When I was little I feared The Edge of Tomorrow—I feared the possible opportunities I was missing.

Now in high school, I know that living through each day is much more important than worrying about each day as time passes much more quickly than the opportunities. For tomorrow and overmorrow never existed, as we live in the present tense, where the edge of each second of each minute of each hour is at our disposal. I learned to not worry about the things I can’t control. 

It took me seventeen years to find the Ends of the Earth. After the waters turned foul, many said that it was a lost cause—just an old tale to warn new sailors of the edges of the seas as many have failed to return. 

I’ve always gotten a feeling of anxiety at the beginning of each new venture, as you never know what’s up ahead. For all I knew, I was just chasing a tale. I sailed closer. Fear engulfed me as the ship neared the edge. For what lay beyond the foul sea? 

The bow of the ship hung off The Edge of the Sea. I stared in wonder at the meeting of the sky and the ocean—the last bit of the old world. The nebulous mix of the elements danced together, both in the rhythm of the waves. Nothing could compare to the feeling of overcoming my fears, for I would have never experienced such a moment if I let them consume me. It tempted me closer, and I teetered off the edge and fell. I learned to feel fear and face it anyway.