Epilogue
In the uneven balance of my life, I experienced love and loss, more loss than I thought I could handle. But the love was unexpected. I almost missed out on it, too afraid and uncertain to give it a chance.
Love helped me live life instead of just survive it. It challenged my resolve, proving I was stronger than I ever thought possible. The comfort of it healed my wounds and caressed my scars. It gave me the confidence to stand taller than the inches within my body. In the dark, I searched for it, yearning for its reprieve, only finding that I was alone.
I couldn’t feel the pain of my broken body. I couldn’t hear the beats of my heart fading within my chest. I couldn’t listen to the agonizing pleas as he clutched me against him. It was silent. All that was left was… me.
In the silence, there was peace. A peace that came too soon, but I sought refuge in its release. Release from the pain, the chaos and the fear. Being comforted by the unfamiliar calm would require a sacrifice I didn’t want to make; but I didn’t know if I had the strength to fight.
I knew time was slipping. I could no longer ignore the dwindling pulse. The thumping struggled to keep pace. The darkness pushed in around me. There was an ease to slipping away - giving in to the quiet and finding the resolution of nothingness. I was drawn to the resignation. I tried to hold on to the memories of my sacrifice - the warmth, the flutters, the truth in his eyes. Was life a choice?
In the balance of love and loss, it was love that made me struggle to… Breathe.