Life and death are always so mixed up together, in the same way some beginnings are endings and some endings become beginnings.
They say hope begins in the dark. That faith is the bird that feels light when the sky is still dim. But with every tomorrow we carry our past. It echoes beneath our feet. There are no clean slates.
If you are interested in stories with happy endings, then you would be better off somewhere else. In this story, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning, and very few happy things in the middle.
The study of sex is the beginning of all life. Yet we sit like prudish cavemen in the dark riddled with shame and guilt.