Sissy the Cynic snuck in my head and started telling me how my life sucks and nothing I’ve done is working.
You little ungrateful bitch! Let me tell you how hard I’ve worked and how beautiful my human, painful, miraculous life is.
First of all, I’ve been through some shit. And, I’ve always taken time to reflect on the role I played, lessons I learned, and how to do it better next time.
See Sissy, this 5.1 version, 50-freaking fantastic, feminine power is just getting started. On the other hand, you my dear are on the way out.
I’ve spent a lifetime building my character. How dare you imagine you could use Kevin’s death to your advantage?
No, you won’t. I will. I’ll use Kevin’s death as a catapult into my future. This experience doesn’t defeat me; it deepens me. Just because I don’t like it doesn’t mean I can’t grow from it. Just because I didn’t deserve my beloved dying doesn’t mean I can’t make the most of it—my way.
Not for Kevin, with him. With his love, I’ll rise. With Kevin, my Fire! I’ll burn like sunshine.
I don’t deny the night. I’ve been here before. I know blackness, the stumbling and the holes I fall into. I also know the hands and hearts holding me up. I’ve seen the brightest stars on the darkest nights. I’ve stayed up late and risen early to greet the darkness, to witness stars and miracles.
Seven or eight stars sprinkled in my sight after my brother died. It still gives me chills.
I could list the miracles and signs for you Sissy, but cynics don’t believe. They belittle ideas and dreams and try to discredit faith.
In the morning—every morning of my life—the sun rises, no matter how dark and grim the night before. You may not always see the sun, but she’s rising. And, so will I.