He had it all planned out. Work hard until 60, save enough for retirement, enjoy his golden years with his wife and grandchildren, and die peacefully at 75. That was the average life expectancy, after all.

But fate had other plans. His wife died of cancer at 62, leaving him alone and heartbroken. His children moved away to pursue their careers, rarely visiting or calling. His savings dwindled as inflation and medical bills ate away at his pension. He had no friends, no hobbies, no purpose.

He wished he could die, but his body refused to give up. He survived a stroke, a heart attack, and a car accident. He endured chronic pain, depression, and loneliness. He watched the world change around him, becoming more alien and hostile with each passing year.

He lived to 95, but he stopped living long ago. He spent his last twenty years in a nursing home, forgotten and miserable. He died alone, in his sleep, with no one to mourn him.

He had it all planned out, but he never planned for this.