A story that usually brings a tear rolling down my cheeks… Stopped by my immense strength to find the gratitudes in life. My breathing… The flow of blood running through my veins. Even the intense pulse felt through my head, a headache that reminds me that I’m alive. And that all of this I feel is because I am alive and that I can feel. That the reason why I am able to tell that story without a quiver in my voice and without a golf-size ball in my throat was because of my strength. Strength brought on by courage, strength brought on by my will. Strength to take that initial step into what life is about. Strength to finally talk about the journey taken to get where I am now, with my head held high and pride that can never be taken away from me.

Then I realise that it was all meant to happen, then I realise everything is where it should be. And that I can finally tell that one story that no longer brought tears to my eyes.

My life.


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