There is an old and very wise Native American saying: Every time you point a finger in scorn—there are three remaining fingers pointing right back at you.

No: What the heck happened? Or: Why did you go from nearly kissing me to tossing me across your yard and into the patio furniture?

Where there is life, there is hope.

Forgiveness is healing—everything is energy—thoughts create—we are all connected—what you resist persists—true love never dies—the soul’s immortality is the only true immortality—

Soundlessly whispering into the void, my lips moving quickly, silently, without ceasing. Calling his name, calling him to me. Even though there's no use. Even though it's futile. Even though it's way past too late.

Miracles do occur, and it's never too late to turn your life around and reach for something better.

Life is not meant to be an open-book test.