There is a saying in Neverland that every time you breathe, a grown up dies. Most people on Earth do not believe this is true, but it is. I can still clearly remember the day she left. I inhaled, she was still here. Then I exhaled, and she had dissapeared. I searched high and low for even the smallest clue that she had been here, here with me. The next day, I opened my eyes, thinking that it was all a dream. That she had not left me so quick and abruptly. Then i realized, it was not a dream. I tasted a salty liquid in my mouth. I felt it flowing down my face, soaking my heart with grief. The liquid showed no signs of ever stopping. It would flow forever. I could not accept that she was gone. My world was dead all around. I could no longer fight for her. It had won. A horrible virus that only knew how to cause grief and sorrow. It was the thing people feared, wincing at the sound of its name. Cancer. Cancer had done it. Taken her away from me forever. Cancer was guilty of murder, death, destruction and loss. But, it had won the short battle of itself against her. When she left the Earth, to join the sky, I held my breath, believing that I would go with her. When I finally released the breath from its cage, I heard it. I heard my breath leaving my lungs, just like her spirit left her. Whenever someone else decides to leave me, I just have to remember. To exhale.