My health has taught me the fragility of this gift. There are days when the weight of my own flesh seems unbearable, when tomorrow looms like an insurmountable mountain. And yet, here I am, choosing. Not because it is easy, but because I have understood that my life does not entirely belong to me.
My family deserves for me to stay. My husband, who looks for me every morning with hopeful eyes, who holds my hands when they tremble and my soul when it falters. My parents, who gave me life and now teach me to live it with dignity. These people who love me have woven a net around themselves that sustains me even when my own strength fades.
I've discovered that love has this miraculous quality: it transforms obligation into desire. I no longer live only for myself, but for my husband's smile when he sees me wake up, for my mother's joy when we share a cup of tea, for the future we can still build together. My presence in their lives is not a burden, but a gift they help me appreciate.
Every day I choose to live is a silent victory over despair. It's affirming that pain doesn't have the last word, that life, with all its limitations, remains a miracle worth living. I don't know how many sunrises I have left, but I know that each one will be an act of love for those who love me.
Living is my way of telling them that their love has been worthwhile. That their companionship has made this path, however difficult, worth traveling. For them, for us, I choose life. Always.
Credits: The image was captured with my Samsung Galaxy phone.
I used Google Translate.
