Perspective.

There is a tremendous part of me that will love him for the rest of my life. My heart, my mind, my soul; aches. At times, it dulls, and life goes on; and then a moment, a smell, a memory, I find my eyes welling with tears and mourning the loss of the best person, the most good, kind, understanding person that I have ever known. There is nothing in my heart that can make sense of what he has done. Simply a stillness in the very depths of my soul that says, "It is well" and an ache, the most splintering pain, that says, I cannot believe; I can not, accept, that he is gone. That he chose this life, this path. That he chose such darkness, over good. Over who I knew him to be. He abandoned everything that we knew.

There are times when I blame myself. There are times when I blame my son. There are times, when I wonder what if? What if I had asked him to stay? He would have stayed. I could have had five more years, maybe forever; but the fact remains, he chose this life.