Unloved

by Katy Regnery

But even that moment was surpassed by another—by the communion of two hearts that have broken and kept on beating. By the keen and consummate sympathy that is born only from surviving something that almost broke you and recognizing that journey back from hell in someone else’s eyes.

We recognize certain days as the happiest, after all, only because we have something else to compare them with. And because they are finite.