The Voice In My Head

Previously

…I hadn’t survived my childhood alone. I had survived because my own heart, in its desperate, primal need for connection, had woven a tapestry of solace, creating someone who would never leave me. Mia was me. Mia was the echo of my own resilience, the whispered promise of hope when all hope seemed lost. I closed the notebook, my fingers tracing the worn cover. A smile, fragile and tremulous, broke through the tears. I whispered into the empty room, my voice raw with emotion. “Thank you for saving my life, Mia.” There was no answer. There never would be again. But for the first time, the silence didn’t feel lonely. It felt like a quiet, profound goodbye. It felt like peace.