Second chances are hard enough when you deserve them. Then there are the ones you don’t.

Callie asked if I was ready. And that’s the question, isn’t it? Ready for what? The spotlight? The music? Or ready for life. Ready to face the reality that what I was is going to attack the very fabric of who I am now. No one knows I’m a different person. Well, no one except the two most important people in my life, which is why there’s a remote chance I might actually pull off the comeback I never saw coming.

Then again, that was before Holland Drake crashed into my life. I didn’t ask for her. Heaven knows she didn’t ask for me. But sometimes it’s not about what makes sense; it’s about accepting that not everything will. It’s learning you have a choice when it feels like you don’t. It’s believing even the worst past can still have a future.

And sometimes it’s none of that. Sometimes it’s survival. A blind fight through the pain as you cling to any shred of hope you can find. And it’s those moments, those desperate pleas into the darkness for a flicker of light, when you have no choice but to confront the blessing that often feels like a curse:

You’re still alive. You’re still significant.

You’re once again Luke Craven, frontman for Night Shifts Black.