I’ve never in my life felt so…alive…as I have in these past few months. The heady, intelligent banter over the long distance line between me and a man who knows what the hell he’s doing. Who authentically loves the magic I possess, and yearns for it. The shedding of some of my agony with my new friends in group therapy. The shedding of my weight and the building of muscle when I exercise. Some nights, I get to the top of the mountain and I feel like throwing my head back and inhaling the night itself. I hear Iggy Pop’s ‘Passenger’ playing in my ears… – “And all of it was made for you and me. So let’s take a ride and see what’s mine!”

In the heat of the summer night, I feel a million stars shining their little lights down, all for me. The thick smell of greenery fills my lungs as they work harder than they have in decades. They press and squeeze in and out of the core of me, and I feel everything. I feel the full weight of the pain he caused and the full joy of what it is to be alive and running. My body knows what to do for once. Its essential function of flight finally fulfilled, I sense a deep and primal satisfaction stirring where once malaise dwelled. I can hear the blood flowing through my veins, I can feel life itself coursing through my eyes. Everything is pummeling my senses with oxygenated fervor, bringing with it a heady cocktail of electricity and sex and power and grief and rage and joy. I feel everything. But the most surprising addition as of late?

Pride.

Did not see that one coming.