What are years that we should count them, weeks that we should account for their passing? For only a moment has yet to pass me by, and that has been my utter despair. I do not count time in minuets and hours, but in breaths and heartbeats and in a life that continues ever on...
The earth continues to circle the sun, the moon has seen it's phases come and go and come again. Yet the ever present moment continues to remain in my mind's eye.
I have learned to let go. I have learned to forgive. I have learned to move forward, to press on, to survive. I have even dared to learn to live on. But that does not mean that the moment is gone.
My heart has settled and my voice is strong once more, but I can still remember when not even a whisper could be heard. The outside was seen as a stone, yet the inside was a raging volcano waiting to explode. Though it never has...
I have been called brave, and strong, and courageous. Yet I see none of these qualities in myself. I have learned however to accept the fact that I will never see what other people see in me.
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