Broken But Still Breathing: Finding Inspiration in the Moments That Shatter Us

There’s a certain kind of grief that isn’t often talked about. Not the grief of death, but the grief of losing someone who is still alive.

They’re out there. Breathing. Laughing. Existing. But not in your world anymore. And that quiet ache—the one that lingers in the in-between of what was and what will never be again—can feel heavier than any goodbye sealed by a gravestone.

Legacy of Lies: The First Journal was born from that ache.

I’ve always believed that pain has a way of carving space inside us—hollowing out the parts we thought were solid—so that something new can grow in the emptiness. But writing this sequel wasn’t just storytelling; it was survival. It was me crawling through the wreckage of a broken bond, bleeding through the keys, praying the words would make the silence hurt less.

There’s a unique kind of torment in loving someone who is still walking this earth but you've chosen to go your separate way. No closure. No final chapter. Just... absence. And unlike death, there's no funeral for that kind of loss. No casseroles. No eulogies. Just the slow, quiet unraveling of connection.

But that pain? It lit the match.

Book Two digs deeper into the haunting themes of loss, memory, and the ghosts that don’t need to die to haunt us. The kind of ghosts that live inside our choices, our regrets, and the words we never got to say.

I didn’t think I could write through it. But the truth is—I couldn’t not write. The story became my lifeline. My way of making sense of the kind of grief no one prepares you for. And in those dark, silent nights where I couldn’t breathe from the weight of it all, these characters showed up. They sat with me. Whispered back hope. Reminded me that broken doesn’t mean done. It just means you’re changing shape.

So if you’re in the middle of your own unspoken goodbye...If you're grieving someone who is still very much alive...I hope this story finds you.

I hope it reminds you that you are not alone.

And most of all—I hope it proves that even in the most shattered moments, something beautiful can still be born.