If She Had Lived…

I would have been nothing more than an invisible name…a shadow…walking behind real greatness. Hers.

The one with the soul untouched by dirt, with eyes as clear as rivers, with hair that burned like the sun itself.

Because she had no limits.

And what I see today — what others dare to call beautiful — is nothing but leftovers… compared to her.

Back then… I burned with envy. I bruised her skin, desperate to find a flaw, desperate to see something human. But nothing ever could.

Her days here… they were sovereign.

From the beauty that stunned crowds, to her childish little storms — everything about her was alive. And I was there — one of her nameless supporters. Proud.

Willingly forgotten.

And now I finally understand… what it meant to simply exist inside a life that shone.

If Angels could not die, if they were chained to us forever, they would not bring us peace. They would not come to us in the nights when we wrestle our emptiness. They would not lend us the strength to carry on when everything tells us to fall.

I was lucky. Lucky to have had such a beautiful Angel. One who, maybe, looks away at the things I do. One who never truly visited — but today, I leave her a gift. A memory. A love that has survived 31 years… without fear.

Will I ever have the chance to speak these words to her?

Will I ever feel her arms around me, even once?

When time finally drags me away, I will not close my eyes. I will tear through the silence, searching for her — in signs, in winds, in shadows.

But deep down… I already know. Maybe it is not possible. Twenty-one years ago, I learned the truth: There is no justice. No reason. No mercy. No meaning. No God.

And it saved me. It ripped me out of the lies, and threw me into this — this place where I see everything… everything.

Maybe I see through her eyes now. Maybe I am the one who carries the vision of what she escaped — of the pain she never had to bear, of the darkness that never touched her.

And I show it to her. Alone.

No one judges me. No one could.

No one could ever be what I am, sister.

Because in this world, of our blood, only I remain.

Because in the echo of your strength, even in your innocence, only I carry it forward. No one represents you here more than I do.

And no one will ever understand.

And the best part? I don’t need them to.

Because I believe what you believed. Because I live to suffer the pain you were too pure to endure. And I accept it. I embrace it.

Because you are soul — and I am flesh.

Because you transcend — and I bleed.

Through me, you breathe.

Through you, I fall.

Unforgettable.

Unbroken.

I am your guardian.

And there is nothing — nothing — stronger than you and me together.

Forever.