There are small moments, when things slow down and I can see just how precious every breath taken is, when those moments fragment and expose the scars that don't usually see light. These are the times when those scars seem so dark in my skin that it is almost as if they've never healed. I know they have. There is light that, when drenching newly-blossomed tulips, makes it so.
Because, the rest of the world continues. My world continues. Sometimes, in fact, I think it's the healing that makes it all so present. We go on. You don't. Did you know that was how it would be, now?
(the essence of your choice is what remains.)
