How is this excerpt from my novel? Be honest and burtal, please!?

Death is not the greatest of evils; it is worse to want to die, and not be able. To watch your love ones perish, to know that you’ll never get the chance to see them again in eternity, or wherever it is you go, is the saddest thing about our way of life. If I could go back, to that stormy winter night, I would have rather gone down to the sea where the cool surging waves would have carried me into blessed oblivion, as my body became limp and numb, deserted by my soul as it floated away. To live in secret as the rest of the world around you lives, ages, dies, while you sit around unable to waste away. No hope, no love, no joy, no anything in that kind of life. For immortality is a fate far worse than any death ever imaginable.