Last night I died.

In the fall of 2021 I took Abstract Algebra. For my final paper I explored Knot Theory and the Braid Groups. I think I’m going to attempt to use what I learned writing that paper to construct a mathematically dubious metaphor for personal identity. I’ll be quoting Doctor Who as well, obviously.

Last night I died.

Let’s talk about Knot Theory. Five words everyone wants to hear on a first date. I wish I could do the math I’m about to explain justice, but I’m an undergraduate with like 2/3rds of a Math minor, so I suggest you look it up on YouTube for an actual explanation. 

Anyways, Knots; What are they? Imagine taking a piece of string and fusing the ends of it together. This should give you a circle. We call this the unknot. You can twist and pull this conjoined piece of string in a lot of different ways, but so long as you don’t cut the string you can always undo your twists to get back your circle. You could have made some loops and twists before you fused the ends together, and that has the potential to give you another type of knot. Maybe the trefoil knot (google it). The fun thing is, some knots are distinct from each other, so no matter how you try to untangle them you can never create the same shape.

(Honestly, I suggest you just go to the Wikipedia page at this point, it’s kind of hard to describe 3-dimensional objects.)

Last night I died.

Okay, so let’s bring in my second favorite date night topic, Philosophy. 

What is it that makes you, you? Maybe your memories. Maybe an immortal soul. Maybe it’s genetic, the specific way the parts of your brain decided to grow.

Maybe it’s a bunch of things.

I think we can think about it like knots. One day I was born, and I was some strange tangle of loops.

And then I twisted and turned for two decades. But underneath it all you can always get back to that strange set of loops screaming in a hospital in 2001. Despite it all, I’m still topologically me.

Last night I died.

I don’t think this is quite right. Something’s wrong with my account, I’ve missed something.

I think this is where my metaphor falls apart: Even if I undo all the twists and turns my own personal knot has endured; Even if I start doing all the things I hate that I once did; Even if I revert, lose everything I love about myself now; I can never go back. I’ll never be the same. With each passing second, I add an irreversible twist to myself. 

Certainly I’m closer to my past self than I am to any of my friends, to anyone really. Even though I have a friend so similar to me people call us the same person, I’m still closer to my middle school self than I am to that friend (except maybe in age).

And yet, I’m not the same person. I don’t think the way I used to. I don’t act the way I used to. I don’t care about the same things. If you gave people a list of all the important characteristics that make up a person, and made one list for me now and me from ten years ago, no sane person would say we were the same. You’d probably never even guess we were the same person, not unless you already knew. 

“We all change, when you think about it, we’re all different people; all through our lives”

And yet, we like to think we are the same. 

Last night I died.

I’m dying.

I don’t want to die.

Last night I died.

I like who I am. But one day, years ago, I woke up and decided I’d close myself off from the world. And that choice lingers with me to this day. Will I wake up one day and decide I no longer like what I see? Will I burn everything I am away? 

“I don’t want to go.” 

I don’t want to die. I don’t want some future man to wake up and decide I don’t get to be anymore. One day I’ll drift away from everything I care about, from everyone I love.

I want to be hopeful. But I blinked and the next day I woke up years older. 

All my hopes and dreams. The first person I ever loved. All my anxieties, and all my tiny triumphs. My grandparents. My brothers. My mom. My dad. 

“All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain”

Hey, I never said I wouldn’t quote other things too.

Last night I died.

If in High School you had told me that I’d spend most of my time in college thinking about how to do good better, about altruism, I would have laughed at you. Maybe all the intuitions were there, everything was ready to one day twist into the person I am now. But I still wouldn’t have seen it coming, just like I can’t see what I’ll be like five years from now. 

So I would have laughed at you. ‘That’s not who I am.’ And then one night I died, and the next morning that was who I was. 

Last night I died.

What will I think when I reread this years from now? This horribly incomplete snapshot of who I am, how will it make me feel?

I try to live every minute in the moment. Every moment in the minute? 

I’m not sure that made sense.

Either way, I do a pretty good job. Maybe too good a job; my upcoming assignments would like a word. But I do the things I want to do; I act the way I want to. I try not to let my insecurities dominate my choices. 

“There is no try, only do.”

Well I hope I’m doing a good job.

But last night I died. And this morning I realized I’ve died a dozen deaths this year alone.

Last night I died.

I’m trying, I really am, to hold onto everything that makes me, me. I’ve woken up some days and wished I was someone different. But now I wake up and wish I could stay who I am, for even just a moment longer.

Every night I go to bed, and every day I wake up and everything is different. Everyone I know has died a little, they’re all new and strange in their own strange new death. 

And one day they’ll stop dying.

Last night I died.

I’m rambling. But one day I’ll die my last death, and then I won’t ramble anymore. 

I’m full of fear. I don’t want to lose the people I love. I don’t want my friends to fade into memories. I don’t want to bury my parents or my dog. I hate goodbyes. I hate endings. I hate change. Why can’t this hug just last a little longer?

I want to protect the people I care about. I want to make them smile and laugh. I want to brighten their lives like they brighten mine. But how can I hold onto any of it? I can’t even hold onto myself.

Last night I died.

I think we should go back to the math, I can tell this is bumming you out a little. I’m sorry, It’s just been on my mind recently. Should we order more bread?

Last night I-

Okay, okay. I get it. Yeah I know I’m being repetitive. Also, I ordered more bread. I know it’ll just go to my thighs, but I’m feeling a little stressed out right now. 

Imagine taking two pieces of twine and twisting them together. You could pull the first string over the second string, or you could pull it under. This is the basic idea behind the braid group. Taking a bunch of pieces of string and pulling them under and over each other. I won’t try to explain what a mathematical group is (google it), but this collection of strings forms a group. Well, actually each collection of ‘n strings’ forms a group, but let’s just stick with the two strings I’m holding for now. The integers under addition also form a group (google it). These two groups are isomorphic to each other; they have the same underlying structure. You can take two pieces of string in your hand and twist them together, and all those twists have the same shape as basic addition. You can hold the shape of math. 

What a crazy, beautiful world we live in.

Oh that? I think that’s a math professor throwing up. I think the sheer force of my dubious explanation of topology and group theory has actually sickened the poor fellow. Maybe it’s time to get the check. This bread is really good, you should try some.

Tomorrow I’ll live.

I want to be hopeful. I don’t feel very hopeful right now, but this bread is helping. If I sit here all day and feel sad about dying I’ll never get to live. If I live my life each night I’ll die.

I’m really caught in a pickle. 

At least I like pickles. Maybe I should make a sandwich with this bread and put the pickle in it. Yes, I took the bread home; we paid for it after all.

Would you look at that? It’s snowing. 

I love the snow. 

Maybe change isn’t all bad. If we hadn’t left the restaurant, we wouldn’t have seen all this wonder. Still, it was warm inside. I guess I don’t know how to feel; at least I have a sandwich.

I love my family.

I love my friends. I love learning. I love food and films. 

I’m going to try to fill each moment with the things I love. 

When I’m finally living my last day I hope I can look back and be thankful of all the people who got to live before me. I hope I’ll leave a good path forward for all those who will live in my stead tomorrow. 

I guess I’ll see, or somebody will anyway.

“Laugh hard. Run fast. Be kind.”

“Doctor – I let you go.”