As we trekked this endless path of heat, our faces stinging with days of sweat, the sun whispered a secret to me: it’s easier to walk to the rhythm of your own heartbeat. We can fall to our knees, bathe ourselves in dirt, our hands desperate for reach, we can scream, and allow the sun to wash us clean. The sun whispered to me: it’s easier to count to three. We can remember how to breathe, like blowing out the candles on a cake, our mouths watering for a taste, to keep on walking, is for your own sake. The sun whispered to me: You do not need to be saved. In the heat of this day, I recount this same time a year ago, when I was sure there was no way. In the heat of this day, I lose all hope, but I am sure, we will probably be okay.