Pain has a way of convincing us that everything stops with it. When something breaks—our heart, our plans, our sense of who we thought we were—it can feel like the book is closed, the story over, the light gone. But that’s not how stories work. Especially not yours.
Your story didn’t end with pain. It just turned a corner.
Maybe you didn’t see it coming. Maybe you had to crawl through the dark for a while, unsure if you’d ever feel warmth again. But turning a corner doesn’t erase what came before—it adds to it. It deepens the story, thickens the plot, shapes the character. It makes you real.
And yes, some chapters carry more ache than joy. But you’re still here, still turning pages. You are not stuck in that one moment. You are allowed to write new ones—softer, braver, quieter ones. Or maybe loud, beautiful, freeing ones. You get to choose.
Because the pain, as heavy as it was, wasn’t the last word. It was just a sentence, in a chapter, in a story that still has more to say.