Dante
I stand in front of the mirror as I finish getting dressed. Black dress pants and a shirt, no tie, with the top buttons unbuttoned. I almost never like wearing anything around my neck other than my white gold chain that my mother gave me when I turned fifteen. On it, I wear a pendant of wings similar to my tattoo, only with two wings. Behind them is written in Italian, Sempre con te. She had said that those wings were mine, that the phrase was for me to know that she would always be with me, protecting me, that when I was ready to fly I would need them. In a way, she was right. I needed those wings a lot when I lost them. They were what I clung to. Her words remained deeply etched in my memories. However, what hadn't been true was that she would always be with me. When I was very yo
