She crossed over to the other side. She was so exhausted, but she breathed easily. Her vision was clear. There was no noise to terrorize her frail mind.
She was so weak before, so spent, so ready to break under all the weight the month had given her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t cry, couldn’t dream. No one else could see the frailty of her condition, but she felt it. She expressed it in words she wrote down in secret. She sent letters across the ocean, in hopes of being reminded love was still there.
Then, before any more pressure could prick her breaking body, a flood of newness washed over her. An unexplainable resolve took hold of her heart and she was determined to move forward. But she would not move forward with the rest of the world.
No, her forward motion would follow the direction of hope. And change.