Sometimes, life is beautiful. Those times mean singing love songs in the shower, and dancing in the kitchen with your 4-year old son, to Louis Armstrong. It's breathing deep and smelling a man's scent on your pillows as you make the bed. Those times are represented by memories of burnt toast and runny eggs served in bed like a gourmet feast by two laughing individuals, one large, one small. And loveletters and emails and phone calls that make you feel like you matter to someone in the grand scheme of things. Sometimes, life is damn near perfect.
Sometimes, it's not. I suppose I should be grateful for the month that I got to feel that way. Right now, I can only think how much I will miss, how much hurt this will cause my son, how lonely our lives are going to be. And I wonder why it all happened. Was there a purpose? Was it worth the tears and the pain of today? Does anybody have the answers? I don't.
Sometimes, you just have to pick up the pieces and move on. You learn from your experience, you heal and, if you're lucky, life takes on a sort of beauty again. It can never be the same, but sometimes, you get to see the bigger picture. We all go through this life alone. No matter how many people you gather around you, in the defining moments, you are alone.