There are times when I think of the woman I was before, soft and warm with only the desire to put good out into the world. She was not bad, I am not ashamed to be her, but nevertheless it is to be recognized that we are no longer one.
I am like a child, new and curious. The view of which I have experienced the world up until now is no longer the view I share. I do not tire, I do not sleep, my will is the only thing that determines whether I will accomplish my goal.
I still care for him. Her father, who raised her from childhood and watched sadly as his daughter’s flesh and blood was slowly replaced by cold steel and gears. There is respectability in this, I think, to help others even as you yourself suffer.
I leave him now with only the hope for peace in his heart. He will remember her as she once was, and I will discover who I am. I and her, she and me. We are one, and yet we are not.
I am proud of her I think, the woman. Human bodies are so frail, unable to encapsulate a soul so pure. I think of her donned in the apparel of her favorite dancers, pirouetting eternally as he watches from the crowd below.
They could have been happy.
She could have grown old. She could have found love. She could have looked at the path before her and make the same choices that I am so fortunate as to be making now.
She is gone and I am left. And who am I? To fill the shoes of someone so much more deserving. I cannot promise that I will be perfect, that I will do no wrong or commit no error, but I will try.
I will try for her, for the girl whose time was cut too short. The girl whose sing-song voice echoes in my memories and guides me through my journey. A tribute, of sorts, is the life which I was given.
I hope she will be proud of me.
titsay
turnnoffyourmind
stormborns
germansingergirl
tangentwithtanner