You told me a part of your story tonight, and it wasn't what I thought it would be. There was sorrow there, far deeper than I imagined, and suddenly, some past actions became better understood. I'm sorry for you, but glad of you; you're still here, after all.
Life gets better, doesn't it? Those dark moments are fleeting; seconds of terror in the spectrum of your lifetime, testing your limits. Look up, the sky is blue, and it's bright for you, for all of them; for all of us. We need to learn to see it.
But I'm glad you're here. You don't deserve to have disappeared - not while there is life in your eyes, not while universe appears in your iris.