Even after this weekend, after the pain of losing a hand to uncontrollable anger (hers) and exhaustive stress (mine), she still makes my life.
Before her, there was living, there was not LIFE. There were moments of love, but life, that came the day she opened me up and made me believe.
That is why driving to school, my heart – still beating with life – yelled atop the pain and frustration, atop the blackness, to make me cry. Music revealed that life still beats louder than the blackness, and as long as there is love, that life will never die: