September 20, 2008
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It was a mean afternoon. The cold showed her bitterness and the wind showed her spite. I was holding onto the leather handle wishing for everything to end. The wishing turned into thinking, and those thoughts turned into words.
“I am going to kill myself,” I whispered hoping the wind would drag those words through the sky so that they would never reach your ears. But, in all her spite, she would not allow this. You heard my pitiful thought and changed my mind with your warmth and beauty. You defied the rigid afternoon and showed me sunlight when no one else could.
I do not know if you remember this day, but I always will. It was the day you saved my life in the way you only could.
