When I was twenty-seven, I hit the lowest point in my life. My entire world came to a crashing halt. It was the first time in my life that I had actually slowed down and stopped running. Didn't really have much of a choice, seeing how I was laid up unable to move. In that short time, I found myself reconnecting with people who passed through my life years earlier. There was one in particular that I found myself growing closer to. My writing, before then, had always been inspired from things within my own life. But I wanted it to be more. I wanted it mean something to someone else. I wanted people to feel like I had reached inside their minds and brought life to their memories. I asked my friend to share a story from their past with me, something that meant the world to them. In her story, I found the path to empathy. Before long, I was writing as others feel. She showed me how to breathe life into a memory, and that is why she came to be my muse.