Late Night Paranoia

It's 5 in the morning and I can't sleep because I'm afraid of dying. I get like that sometimes, really paranoid. I lie awake in the middle of the night, one hand pressed tightly against my heart, fingers at my throat, waiting for my pulse to slow, or jump, or stop all together; I don't know. I count the number of times my heart beats per minute. 59 tonight. Last time I did this it was 72. Funny thing is, I'm not even sure how many times your heart is supposed to beat in one minute in order to keep you perfectly healthy and alive. (I'll bet it's more than 59!) Sometimes I think that if I let my eyes close - even for a second - that my heart will stop beating in my sleep and I'll never even know I died. That scares me. If I die I want to feel it happen; I want to cause it. I want to know and I want to go gracefully, not while I'm lying in bed in a faded Souxsie and the Banshees t- shirt and Hello Kitty panties, with unkempt hair, no makeup, and razor burn. It would be such a shame to end a life so unprepared, even if it's mine.