Some days the void within me feels so vast that I almost wish someone would have just given me the entrance wound in my chest to match hollowness under the smooth, physically unbroken exterior.
Some days the pain is so great that I know there are things worse than death in this world.
But then Other days I understand that pain is a reaction that lets us know that we are still alive. Fighting, barely hanging on perhaps. But we are not dead yet.
And I remember all of the things I would have missed if I had died ages before when I begged for it.
And I hold on, having faith that maybe tomorrow or next week there will be something worth waiting to see too.