"The view of the human world I could see with my eyes had flattened, like a scene printed on a heavy theater curtain. And then the curtain parted just a fraction. Midtown Atlanta, the old buildings, the natural world, the flowers and messages, were inconsequential and felt unreal. They were two dimensional, like looking at a projection. What was real was what I could see through that split in the curtain and what I saw was a holy thing."
Eight years ago I prayed to get out of this living hell so I could be with Mike again. Today, in the same Mike-free world, I'm prone to ending texts and emails with "I love this life!" We are here, our loved ones are Here, and it's all the same. There is nothing to fear. The heartbeat of Love is eternal.
“Instead of shooting through the front windshield to crush my skull against that house-sized hunk of metal, I crawled out of that car with only a burn on my neck from the seatbelt. I remember leaving Frank's Little Hut in Montrose as I'd done a dozen unbelted nights before. I remember pulling that seatbelt around me; doing it and wondering why at the same time. Guided. Always.”