One last thing to share with the void tonight:
Tonight, I held my baby girl for the first time.
For once, I was not holding someone whose life was slipping away. I was holding someone whose life had only just begun—someone my wife and I brought into this world.
She is beautiful. Holding her brings a kind of pure joy I cannot put into words. She is a future I once believed I would never have, and tonight, I held that future in my arms.
Every movement of her hands, every time she opens her eyes, cries, eats, sleeps, or even sneezes already feels like a milestone to me. Everything I have fought through, and everything I have fought for, is here in my arms and beside me and my wife.
I know this may never reach a large audience. Maybe only a few people will ever read it. But whether it reaches a few or many, I want whoever finds these words to know that no matter how dark the pit becomes, a future is still possible.
You may not be able to see it right now. It may feel distant, impossible, or like nothing more than a hollow dream. But tonight, I am holding one of those impossible dreams after it became real.
And if a Nobody like me can make it here, then maybe a Somebody like you can too. Until then, this Nobody is here with you.