I felt it the other day.

Genuine, powerful, mighty, and iridescent.

It was small, yet nearly overwhelmed me for I had not felt it in a long time.

I cried, which I later found to be amusingly ironic.

It was happiness. And real, authentic joy.

The answer to a tear-filled prayer of, "I don't want to be sad anymore, I just want to be happy".
The answer to months of vulnerability with myself, my friends, and two very compassionate strangers.
The answer to unwillingly, but necessary medication.
The answer to undesired and unimaginable grief.

I don't always feel it. And I don't always think it's the only answer. But I'm starting to see it more and more frequently.

They say time heals. I didn't believe that six months ago. I didn't believe that when you left and didn't look back. I didn't believe that when I didn't have hope for myself.

But times change. And time changes.

The unexpected hope, the healing change, the slow growth, the light within.