It’s almost like nothing.

Almost everything. Everything coming together, making magic. I feel it, if only even a little bit.

Feeling safe. Free, alive.

Finally alive.

I will never be able to admit the hardest part of my downfall of anyone. The part that made me utterly and completely afraid, the part that made the obstacle higher than what I could jump. I told everyone to see the light, I told everyone that there was hope, always. I saw it first, and then I began reading a sort of script, repeating the same words I couldn’t even bring myself to believe anymore. I was not living, I was dying. The days passed and they passed in silence. I wore a smile, and my old faded jeans. My feet carried my slugish body to the rest of life. I did not want to go where no one wanted me.

And somehow, I carried myself out of the darkness. I put on a happy face, put on a face of pride. I told myself I was stronger, I told myself a lot of things.

So the days passed, and life was normal, but not really. Someone told me to move on. To forget. I couldn’t understand it. Forgetting was not something I was used to.

I didn’t forget. I forgave. Something maybe I had needed to do. I forgave, and moved on from a life that was killing me inside. I opened my tearstruck eyes, and saw the boy that had been there all along. My heart began to feel again.

And I’m alive.

There is nothing better than being alive.