If I stop for a moment all bad will cease. Perhaps I should never move again. Those were my thoughts after John passed. Nothing in this world can replace what he meant to me. But I move on. Reluctantly I accept reality. Yet, I do not believe in endings. Much more will arrive tomorrow. The promise to never cease breathing, as I once chose to die. Every rise of my chest is the testament of mountains. And every slumber the peace of contentment.