I have always felt alone. Well, most of my life anyway. I didn't have any friends, I had an okay house, I had a stable job with good pay but, I always just had that itching, nagging feeling of loneliness. It was always there. It never dulled. It just kept pushing and pushing. It came to the point where every single day of my life, I felt suffocated. The fact that I had absolutely no family didn’t help. I honestly thought there was something wrong with me. At least then I could try to fix it, but that never happened. All the thoughts of the people who had left me, willingly or not, kept weighing on my chest. My parents left me in a dumpster about three days after I was born. My brother went missing in action and soon after I found out he died serving his country. Soon after, my sister passed away as well. There was a plane crash and my sister died with her husband and unborn child. It just seemed as if everyone around me was just doomed. I couldn’t interact with people and let them in only for their life to be damned. I never wanted anyone to come into my life again, so I built my walls. High. Strong. Seemingly impenetrable. I was so used to being alone that it became my normal. The way I molded myself usually kept people away. I really believed that no one would ever knock them down. Until I met her. Looking down at this ring I remember I made a promise to myself to never bring up her name again. Although I am grateful and forever indebted to her, I can't say her name and not feel immense sorrow. She literally bumped into my life and annihilated all the walls I built. She was a ray of sunshine that drastically contrasted my darkness. In a matter of months I had a best friend, a sister. I shared all my secrets and insecurities with her and in return, she shared hers. She was a victim of rape and her rapist made it so there was no chance she could get pregnant. But that didn’t stop her. She started an orphanage and volunteers at the children’s hospital. “I want to be able to know what is wrong,” she said. “I want to fix myself. If I can do that, I can help others with their trauma.” Getting her degree in psychology was her one goal in life and she pursued it. Life was way too short to not pursue your passion, she said. When I told her that I loved writing, she was ecstatic. She pushed me to pursue my passion and I soon got published. My debut novel also became a #1 New York Times bestseller. Through it all Ali-- she was there.  But all that changed when I found out the news. She had lung cancer. For weeks, I couldn’t look at her in the face. All I could see was a tombstone and me attending her funeral with all the individuals she tried her best to help. How could I not know? The life was slowly draining out of her. The shortness of breath, her hair slowly falling out, the nausea and vomiting. So it is true, I thought, everyone who comes into contact with me, one way or another, is completely and utterly damned. When I finally saw her, lying on her bed, hooked up to an IV, I couldn't help the overwhelming anger that sparked inside of me. "How could you do this to me?" I shouted, turning red in the face. "How could you knock down all the walls I put up, promise to never leave, and then continue dying right in front of me? If you were just going to go on and die you should have never come into my life anyway!" All the anger I was feeling came out but, what I was really experiencing was despair and sorrow covered by mock anger. She just looked at me. Didn't say a single word. When she finally spoke, I realized that she was preparing me. "I did that so when a new person comes into your life, you won't regret them. If I just left without a word, you would build your walls higher and stronger and even the most courageous wouldn't dare try to knock them down." She then took off her ring that sat on her nightstand and handed it to me. "Before you leave, take this. It is a promise ring so that you remember your promise to me and will let people in. I love you Brooklyn Atlas Coleman. Don't ever forget that." After her speech I took the ring and went home. There I cried myself to sleep, knowing I wouldn't see her again. I would never get to experience her insensitive jokes, or her laugh where she snorts constantly, or her smile which shows only one dimple. Now, 5 years later, I have a wonderful husband and beautiful son. She knew what she was doing. I owe my life to her. If she hadn’t came into my life on that day, I would have been another soul lost to suicide. I have kept the ring that Alic-- she gave me something that no one has ever thought to give me before. She gave me the chance to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. I have held on to her for too long, now it was time to let go. I put the ring in my memory box along with my brother’s dog tags, the blanket I was wrapped in as a baby, and the music box that my sister loved. I took all those items and buried them in the ground. New memories will be made and I will forever thank her for helping me become who I am today. Having Xavier and baby Jackson in my life, makes it more bearable. I never thought it would happen but it did. Thank you, Alicia Mae Knight.