Something to Nothing

     You were so young.  You were tall, beautiful, and sweet; the definition of a "Gentle Giant."  Your life was only just beginning, but it was cut short by the hands of bad luck.  We wanted to try to heal you, but we thought our feeble attempts to mend your small, fragile bone would be torture.  How could we treat you like that; like a toy that just needs to be put into storage for awhile?  We couldn't trap you in a box, for nearly as long as you have lived, without any interaction.  And where would it get us?  "Hopefully" you would be healed "good enough"; with the best of circumstances, which were already against you, you would be forced to a life without meaning.  Prone to complications, abuse, and neglect.  It broke my heart to make the decision, to say goodbye to those beautiful, loving eyes forever.
     I'm so sorry for the pain I caused you.  You had to suffer because of our ignorance, and our indecisiveness.  We wanted to save you, but it only caused you more pain and unrest.  On March eighteenth, your second birthday, we released you of your pain and suffering, and let you go forever.
     I still remember the day you came into this world, and how beautiful you were.  I remember your sweet, lifeless face before you were detached from your mother.  It was the same face I saw after you were cut from the ties of this world.  I remember the sounds of your first wobbly steps, and the sound of your un-coordinated body falling to the ground.  It's the same sound you made two years later, when you hit the ground for the last time.  Your heart was stopped forever, your brain flooded with the same poison that stopped your heart.
     I remember the feeling of your big muscles, still warm and soft with fresh blood.  Your muscles were still alive, your veins still full of oxygen-bearing blood, each cell still doing its duty; it wasn't meant to be the end.  But you were without a brain to direct, or a heart to pump.  Most of all, what made you who you are, was gone.  You were still alive, each muscle still capable of transmitting signals, but you had left.  It was an empty body.  No love to fill those soft eyes.  No more of your fearfulness that I never understood, no more of the stubborn fights I dreaded, no more of the forgiveness I always took for granted, no more of the curiosity I adored.  Your body is still here; I can still stroke your long hair, and kiss your squishy nose, but what does it mean if I'm merely kissing an empty body?  If what I loved is no longer there, what worth is your body?  Your eyes are empty, your brain thoughtless.  As your body cools, your cells die, your blood becomes stale, your muscles become stiff, I feel no connection to this rotting body.  This body is just a memory now, it has little significance without you.  I did not love this body, I loved the being inside this body, and he is long gone.