It was one of those moments, those rare ones that you know will follow you for the rest of your life. Their effects rippling through your life, with the same magnitude of an effect that a tiny pebble can have on an entire ocean. I suppose the story starts when I was 10 years old, when the happy floating pieces of my existence collided together, not to form something beautiful or joyful, but collided to shatter my world. There were three things that could have happened on that night. One: The car could have hit me. Two: The car could have swerved and continued down the road, in no way impacting my life. Or three: The car, containing my mother could have swerved to avoid me in the road, collided along with the pieces of myself, and shattered every window, bone and heart involved. This is my story. A story of a tragic loss, a loss that shaped who I was, who I am, and who I will become in every way possible. It is a story of how life can destroy you and a story of how life can build you back up piece by piece, until the parts of yourself join to make you whole. It is a story, explaining how to some, the only way to feel whole again is to find someone who allows you to hurt, to bleed and to fall on your knees and feel the pain. And my god did I feel the pain. It is a story about how that one person can shine a light to help you drag yourself from the darkness and hold you tightly so that you don't slip back.
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