September 2010.
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Have you ever thought back to your lowest point in life? How does it make you feel? Sad? Maybe angry? Frustrated? I think all of those sums it up for me. I remember my lowest, and most desperate, point so vividly; it shows up as a nightmare every so often, or I look at the bright red jeans I had on, or whenever I'm lost for words, it all takes me back to that awful moment. My voice had shook as I made promises to him, as I begged for a chance, begged for him.
I remember being stunned into silence, barely breathing, eyes on the ground, as the words spilled from his mouth. None of the right words, none of the words I wanted to hear. And I knew I had to throw in the towel; I had to give up this year-long fight. I couldn't keep wishing for something that wouldn't ever happen.
I remember whispering a single word, and with great effort, I forced myself to move. I walked away from him, and I didn't glance back. I remember how hard the tears were spilling down my cheeks, how my entire body felt numb as I ran back to my car, how I looked at his car parked next to mine and realized how it would never be that way again. I remember lying face-down in the grass of the park, hating myself for ever letting this happen. I remember looking up at the starry night sky, and trying to convince myself he was just a single star in a sky of a million brighter, better stars. Maybe some day I would truely believe that, but it was impossible right then. I had lost my favorite reason to smile, and laugh, and shine.
And then, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and cast its light down upon me, and the whisper in my heart said, "I'm still here." And right then I knew that I would be all right.
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