His voice
trembled.
“And when she became ill, she told me something I’ve never forgotten. She said, ‘George, I spent so much time worrying about what other people thought of my body that I forgot to live.’”
I stared silently at the photograph.
“But why did you bring me here today?”
Grandpa suddenly picked up his phone.
“There’s something else I want you to see.”
A video appeared on the screen. It was me, about six years old.
I was running around the swimming pool, laughing loudly, and jumping into the water without the slightest hesitation.
I looked so happy.
“Do you remember that little girl?” Grandpa asked.
I smiled through my tears.
“Yes.”
“Well, I miss her terribly.”
Those words broke my heart.
“You’re still that same Emily. But some cruel people convinced you that you don’t deserve to enjoy your own life.”
I lowered my head.
