“For you, my love,
surviving hell was worth it.”
If I died when I was young, what would this world look like?
It’s not so much the legacy of my words. The baring of my soul. Or the what ifs of friends and family. If no one knew me, they wouldn’t know what they’d be missing.
But there is one very important thing that couldn’t exist had I not been here. My child. This living, breathing, growing organism that started as nothing more than a few cells. A random meeting of chance and pristine circumstances. I felt him growing. I heard his first cries. Saw this eyes, smelled his skin, and felt his little fingers wrapped around one of mine. I felt those bear hugs, heard those giggles and first words.
If I didn’t live — if nothing happened the way it did, that little miracle wouldn’t have seen the…
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crjen1958 