And sometimes, separation is a form of love; the highest level of dedication to one’s heart. She was art, a magical rendition that echoes selflessness in its symphony. The skies never looked more beautiful knowing she was in its presence. A shooting star flying upon manmade wings, destined for a destination that defines dedication. Her journey inspired a fate nonexistent without her. The irony, distancing our bond so we can stay together. I stand staring, emotions surging to the corners of my eyes, tears reaching to the surface for a breath of air. Lost in myself, loneliness saw its opportunity to give birth to anxiety. But his hand tightens its grip, almost sensing the walls of my heart crumbling, and just as I was lost, I was found. He was the string forever entwining our paths, the moon hovering over the nights of solitude plaguing the family we called home. And at that moment, I understood, that as his mother flies the skies to educate her mind, she entrusted her greatest gift in my hands. Time is the antagonist of our script, but love is the hero, not even death can overcome.