“Sometimes you need to hang on to someone else’s hope, someone else’s peace and sanity while yours is under siege. Do it. Courage, hope, faith, sanity, peace… they all come and go. Borrow them from someone else’s supply until your own comes back in.” -Linda Mundy
How did I make it this long?
How did I survive the most soul shattering event that could ever take place?
How was I able to get up and breathe, and then walk and then live, after Michael's death?
These are all questions I've asked myself and find others asking me.
Time does make certain aspects of life more bearable, but to say I didn't, at many times, loathe waking up each morning, would make me a liar.
The truth is, that at the moment where I wanted to give up I remembered the man above. I remembered how much he loved life, how much he made everyone he met feel like they were special, how with three simple words from his mouth he had my heart forever.
But there I was, consumed in my own suffering, that I had forgotten the fact that all he would want would be the ability to live, and here I was, ready to give up on any sort of life or existence.
The truth is that I lived for Michael. I woke up. I got out of bed. I sought out others like me. I found my passion. I pursued it. I learned to laugh and smile once more. I did it for him, and in the midst of that action, awoke one day to the realization that I was now living for myself.
He gave me strength when no one else could, He rooted me on for each inhale and exhale. He never doubted my course. He inspired me and gave the world color when all seemed gray.
He did it all when he was alive. He did it all after he passed away.
He made me hold on. He lent me the core of his soul and the strength of his being for as long as I needed.
He saved my life by letting me see I could save my own.