You never quite deal with it. It's a constant mild irritant that always lurking in the back of your mind. There's no fear of dying, in fact it's almost the opp

You never quite deal with it. It's a constant mild irritant that always lurking in the back of your mind. There's no fear of dying, in fact it's almost the opposite. You (emotionally? mentally?) never really believe you're going to die, even though your brain (scientific knowledge) definitely accepts the reality of that. I remember the first time it happened, when I looked in the mirror and thought "Who is that old bastard?" before the brain kicked in and said "It's yourself, you twit. You are older than you want to believe. And it shows." I also know that many of the things coming up in the future will be happening and I won't be able to know what's happened because I won't be here. And that annoys (disappoints?) me. That's because I want to know how it turned out. An analogy: you're reading a book and you know that the last three chapters have been torn out and you can't stop reading because you want to know "Who dunnit".