To die with your soul exhaled on a full breath.

Not mid-regret.

Not in fear.

But after doing something true.

Maybe in your sleep, maybe under the stars, maybe laughing in a kitchen full of people who knew your name the way you meant it.

Maybe with the dogs curled at your feet and your legacy scribbled in ink and memory.

A death that feels like the final punctuation of a well-written sentence—not a cutoff, but a close.