There is before, and then there is after.

I want to write about before. I want to write about how my memories feel as though someone has spilled black ink onto the beautiful images and words. I want to write about before everything fell. Before my soul was not ripped from my chest only to be replaced. I want to write about everything before.

But the before is just that. Before.

I am the after. I am what comes from a soul placed in fire. I am what comes from screaming, crying, aching, uncontrollable shaking. I am what comes after that first moment of blinding pain. I am that moment you realized you. have. survived.

I have lived a thousand days in forty-eight hours. I have looked into the darkness and screamed, it could not have him. I have fought on my knees while my body shook uncontrollably. I am the after.