A therapists asks me if I am feeling better. I say yes, because I am feeling better. If feeling better is being able to stick my hands out of my passenger seat window, without wondering what it would feel like to topple head first out the door on the highway. Feeling better feels like taking my medication in an airport by the water fountain and not feeling like I’m falling out of the sky. Sleeping for eight hours and not dreaming of all the boys who have pressed their tired bones into my body like their mattress. Feeling better means tasting every single bite. Feeling better means saying I love you and the words actually come out of my mouth. Feeling better means not checking your Instagram and when someone says your name I don’t flinch, I just nod and brush you off like a dusty shelf. It means I hope every person who treated me like target practice sees me walking down the street with the sun tangled in my hair and stars freckling my skin do a double take. When they tell me I look amazing I just nod and walk away. When the ghosts in my walls try to talk to me I kiss them on the forehead and say know you have your place here but it was mine first, my body, my mind, my life. Wild blossoms grow from my finger tips. For the first time someone else apologies for ever doubting that I could get better. I am terrified but I am breathing, how amazing is that.