No one survives.


She hadn't seen her for such a long time. When was it? Well, not since... she stopped, not really wanting to think about it. Did they really talk about it anymore? And here she was... right in front of her. She was surprised to see how light she looked... how free... almost like Spring. Should she tell her? She was happy for her, and also a bit curious, so she began.

"You look great," she said, not meaning it to sound like a question, but feared somehow that it had.

"I feel good."

"You do?" she asked.

"I do." She knew she hadn't convinced her, and so she repeated it. "I do."

"That's amazing," she continued. "Wonderful, good for you."

"Yes." she replied softly. She kept looking at her, with that uncertain smile.

"It's wonderful?" she asked, not knowing why her friend was so surprised.

"Well, you know, it's great how you've, you've moved on, and everything."

"Where was I to move to, but on..."

"Yes, yes, I suppose you're right, but how... how did you do it? You know, forget...forgive?"

"I'm not sure you forget completely. But I had help - carrying it. The river remembers...water never forgets... and the trees... they remember, but remain strong. They carry it for me. And forgiving. Well, there was no choice really... that was for me mostly."

"So you could survive?" she asked.

"No one survives," she answered, simply and calmly, a voice filled with grace. This puzzled her. "No one? Survives?"

"No. You can't stay the same and merely exist. If you stay the same, you die, buried in it... and if you move on, well, then you're new... you've changed... and you're living again... not the same, but not merely surviving... you're living." She smiled, this time, truly happy for her friend, her new friend.

"But to forgive...?"

"I had to. I missed the flowers. I missed the sun. The green. The anger was blinding. The sadness. I couldn't see. I had to forgive, so I could see again. It was for me. So yes, I forgave. I forgive every day. I even forgive myself on the days that I miss... a day that I let slip away without enjoying it. We don't get that many. I'm happy. It's not impossible. It's nor more improbable that I can fly. So I do. I fly. I give thanks. I have, as you say, moved on... and I will, keep doing that, as joyfully as I can.. as long as these glorious wings will carry me."

She smiled completely now. She had never before seen Spring on a Winter's day.


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