Today, I feel the sunshine kiss the paleness of my skin.

I am happy.

It is a such an unfamiliar feeling.

So unfamiliar in fact, that it seems almost wrong.

You're words. Their words. His words. Her words.

They all seep in my skin, run through my veins, warming my cold feet and hands, bringing color back into my sullen face.

He is helping me. Healing me if you will.

I have made it through the storm.

The worst, I pray, is over.

I can see the clear blue skies, and feel the warmth inside of my whole body.

The darkened clouds are behind me. I can see them in the distance.

They are threatening, caving in, forever growing.

But this time, I don't wait. I'm running. Saving myself. Mending my gallery of broken hearts.

In a year or so, maybe my gallery won't be broken.

Perhaps it will be full, alive, open.

Valiant in color, pure and luxurious.

Until then....

Thank you followers, for holding my hand through this lonely and dark road I've been traveling through.

I am clinging to your clothing, weeping for your closeness.

You all are saviors. Loving angels. Guardians.
And, I love you.

Is love really what they tell us it is?

Even unreturned, does it mend and heal?

The feeling. So strong. Must bring back all the little pieces.

Placing them carefully; one puzzle piece to the next.

A beautiful painting, so real, so wonderful.

No money can afford it.

By loving him,

I am learning to love myself. Measuring not only on scales but in laughs, and sometimes even smiles.

And I hope, through love, you too,

can learn to love yourself.