It’ll get better with time.
That’s what everyone told me.
They were so damn wrong.
That night on the bridge, I was ready for it to end. The pain. The guilt. I couldn’t take it anymore.
But then HE showed up. Tall. Broad shoulders. A thick beard. Plaid shirt. Through the fog and rain, he looked like a giant lumberjack coming at me.
Turns out he was a mechanic who just happened to stop and notice something leaking from my car. Next thing I know, the guy’s giving me a ride back to his garage.
He ruined my plan. I wanted to hate him for that but couldn’t. Not after he told me what happened on that same night exactly one year ago.
Travis doesn’t tell me it’ll get better with time because he knows it isn’t about the days or the hours or the minutes that pass. It’s about the breaths.
With every breath, you get stronger.
With every breath, you start to heal.
With every breath, you see a sliver of light.
Before he found me on the bridge that night, I couldn’t breathe. But Travis showed me how.
And with every breath, I grew to love him.