We all have our sad stories. They may be simplistic, merciful and tolerable. You may have an ache that eventually leaves you as time wears on, but nothing more. Others are more complex. They're more intense, numbing your body until you can't feel anything except the airless oxygen pumping through your veins. And only the right words will bring you crashing back down to the earth, where the stars are nothing but lights in the sky, not the mesmerizing burning embers they used to be. The clouds will no longer be the simpleminded shapes you used to see as you laid on your back, soaking up the sun that to you is now just an object in the sky. These sad stories affect us, changing our image and how we view the world. Only when we learn to accept that there are people out there willing to help do we finally try to let go of the pain that has been bottled up inside of us for so long. Only when others open their arms and welcome us in do we accept the affection dished out to us by the universe. It's just that sometimes the loss comes before the love.