I was born with a bad heart. It's not the best pick-up line.
The doctors said I wouldn't make it to adulthood. I spent more than eighteen years watching a clock, wondering what second, minute, hour, and day of the week would be my last.
Then, early one morning, on a day that I could have guessed to be a last, the phone rang. It was the kind of call every person on a transplant list waits for.
There was a match. For me.
Someone else's heart would become mine. It would give me more time, a chance to stop counting fearing the minutes passing me by. It would give me a new life.
A young father, at the threshold of a bright future, was left shattered, seeking the heart he had cherished throughout his existence.
Our paths inevitably crossed. In a world where love embeds itself within the very essence of our beings, ensuring it never truly fades, he found me. And if our roles were reversed, I'd search for myself too.
This journey taught me that love transcends the physical confines of our existence, melding with our very souls.
While I carry this heart within me, my fairy tale ending may not have unfolded as expected, but it became everything I could have ever wished for.
