In September I lost my grandmother.
My grandmother had always been my role model, and losing her destroyed me.
There were days when all I wanted to do was cry. Everyone seemed to be moving on, but I was stuck in this rut, and felt weak because I couldn’t be happy.
A friend noticed I was upset one day. He is the first and only person to see through the mask I had on.
I don’t trust people easily, but he wormed his way past my defenses.
He has taught me that it is okay to need people, and it’s okay to cry when things get bad.
He made me realize that life is full of dark turns, but it really is beautiful to be alive.
I know now that being depressed is nothing to be ashamed of.
He helped me heal and became my “brother” all at the same time. He has held my hand every step of the way, forcing me to brush my hair, and eat on days when it feels like I can barely move.
He pushes me to reach my full potential. He is my anchor that keeps me from drowning.
He is my miracle that came when I least expected it, and needed it the most.
My point in sharing this is to give hope to someone who may need it. Someone loves you, and will be there for you.
Everyone has a miracle, and your miracle is worth waiting for especially when you want to give up the most.