It was a year of failed tests, torn tights and cold tea. A year of empty gas tanks and ignored phone calls. I fell apart and somehow back together all in time to realize that maybe I could save myself. That maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as bad as I thought I was. I learned that my illness could also be my strength. That it didn’t matter if some days I couldn’t get out of bed because when I did, I did wonderful things. I learned to love the body I have, every wrinkle and scar. I learned that my bones were made of steel and my soul forged from star dust. I learned that people come into your life to teach you things and that doesn’t mean that they’re going to stick around. I let myself believe that the only form of love was devotion and I learned to appreciate the love I had when I had it. This has been a year of learning, and pretty dresses, and late nights. I fell apart only to have to piece myself together and I learned where all of my piece fit.