What's your story?

It’s something that enters your eye when your cries first echo into the world. Everything is blurry and unknown, and yet there is something bright, letting you know you’re alive. It’s something you see on top of a cake, as you blow it away with all your wishes buried deep in your heart. You look up and see everyone you love whose eyes reflect it. It’s something that illuminates the room when your alone crying, your hand clutching at a picture that you once lovingly looked upon. When everything seems like the opposite of it, you look up and you see that it was never gone. It is something that irritates you when your hangover kicks in, causing the throbbing in your head to worsen. You try to turn over and ignore it, but it creeps at you, trying to push you off your bed.

You feel it when you’re hugged tightly by someone you love, as your heart hammers inside your chest. You hear it when you’re in a beach all alone, as the waves crash into the sand. You taste it when your girlfriend kisses you, as you lick your lips to relish the feeling of her lips on yours as you drop her off at her house. You smell it in a flower patch or in a bakery, as it seeps into your nose and conjures up memories long forgotten.

It is something you see when the church doors open to reveal the love of your life walking down the aisle. You see it glitter in her eyes as you slip in the ring on her finger, and you see it again in her smile. It is something you see when you see your child for the first time, as you lull him/her in your arms. You feel like a big giant compared to them, but you don’t care. You’re going to give them everything anyway. It is something that escapes you when you see your wife happy with someone else. You feel robbed and fooled, as you hold in the tears that threaten to fall. But when you see her again it’s like it never happened, and you love her just as much.

You feel it when you see your child fussing over her wedding dress, as she tries to hide the excitement she feels. Although she is being taken away from you, you don’t feel it. Because you know she has chosen well, and she’s happy. You hear it when your daughter’s child giggles when you hold her, the way she babbles nonsense words at you. You taste it when your favorite food collides in your mouth, as you chew it slowly, savoring every bitterness or sweetness.You smell it in the morning as your wife hums slowly while clutching the spatula in her hand. You never notice the way her voice breaks, or the tear stains in her eyes. You just know you feel happy with her in your home.

It is something that you see fifty times on a cake when your kids come over your house. It’s something that reflects on your eyeglass when a flash illuminates the faces of your kids and grand kids. You see it in your her eyes, but sadly it is when she stares at her husband. Your heart breaks a little, yet you smile at them, letting them know that it’s okay. It is something that dances in your living room as it catches the curtains of your house. It is something that spreads into your house, as you desperately try to escape the suffocating air.

You smell it when you’re finally out of the house, although you cough several times. You taste it when water finally enters your mouth, satisfying a thirst you never knew was there. You hear it from her voice, coaxing you to stay awake. You feel it when she holds your hand, vanishing all the pains you’ve felt all these years without her.

It is something that you see, a small dot, a small tunnel. You try to grasp for it, you try to reach it. You hear her voice somewhere, but it doesn’t matter anymore. You try to reach for that something, afraid it might go away. And when you do reach it, you breath in the new air, as your cries once again echoes for the first time into the world, this time as another soul.

Light.