Could you imagine wanting to die for someone? Maybe you can reach such heights once you make a family of your own – maybe until then if you speed enough romantic bookstoppers. But even then, that’s awfully convenient. Dying for one’s own children seems to make more sense.
Anyway, of course no one wants to think about these sort of dilemmas. For some, any choice would be the wrong choice: for some, it’s a defiant sort of game where you refuse and force your own way. That seems more fun than the theoreticals, a “but what if“ and then you say some things that sits wrong perpetually until you manage to forget.
But you know, our history is rife with these sort of decisions. How do you know which king to support, how do you resolve to grimace through war? Because there’s a line in the sand where you’d say “no farther than this”. Where the alternative world where you didn’t fight wouldn’t be worth staying in, however uncomfortably brutalist it is.
Uncompromising in the face of death is something extremely unfamiliar to a fair majority nowadays.