Color Me Pretty

Lianna's face. “Only do this if you feel comfortable,” she says, glancing over her shoulder at the clock. I know the show's a few weeks away, but for her, it may as well be tomorrow.
    “I … ” I try to think about what Emmett would say, and then realize that even his opinion doesn't matter right now. This is all about me. I can only do this if I feel it's the right step, if I believe in myself. I take a deep breath. Although Lianna Cheung has a lot to do, although I'm a small fish in a big pond, she doesn't rush me. She just stands there and waits patiently, holding my hand, looking at a younger version of herself and praying that everything works out for me the way it worked out for her.
    “Do you need a day or two to think about it?” she asks as my eyes find the photos of that sad girl's face, as they stare at her, small and pale, ghostly, a shell of a person. I look her straight in the eyes and I think hard about what I want to do and where I want to go with my life. My mind struggles with this decision, struggles until I pass off the choice to my heart. Then, and only then, the decision becomes a simple one.
    I look up, meet Lianna's eyes and say what I'm feeling deep down, past all the bullshit and the hurt and the recovery and just everything. I speak from the soul, and that's what matters most.
    “I'd love to.”

The day of the fashion show arrives, and I'm a complete wreck. In a good way. Emmett makes me an egg white omelet with veggies that I actually eat and promises me that everything will be okay. The thing is, I believe him. And I believe in myself, too. I don't need to tell him that the fact that my family might be there is more frightening than the thousands of eyes that will be on me, watching, judging. But that's what I want, what I've always wanted. I want to be seen. I just didn't know why at first. Now I do. I want to make a difference, be someone that can stand out as an example to those whose hearts are still bleeding.
    Dear Me, I want to be pretty while alive.
    So that the ones who are ready to give up, the ones like Kylie can look and see proof that life after life exists, that happiness after pain is possible, and nothing, nothing, nothing is ever out of our reach.
    Not on the outside, but inside where my heart beats fierce and my soul glows brighter than the sun.
    I spent months starving myself, obsessing, trying to fit into everyone else's idea of perfect when all I needed to be was myself because if I'm happy with who I am, then it doesn't matter. And even better, once you love yourself, you can find somebody else to love you, too, that one other person in the whole universe that thinks you're perfect, too.
    Burn, burn brightly, so fiercely that even the sun can't compare, even the moon can't compete.
    So that perfect person and me, we get in his little red two-seater and we drive to the fashion show nobody was sure I'd ever live to see, and he kisses me, and I kiss him, and I walk up the stairs feeling weightless, like one of the beautiful, silver cranes on Lianna Cheung's dress.
    And the smile that taints my full lips looks like the blossoms on the branches of our favorite tree.
    She greets me with a kiss to each full cheek and ushers me into hair and makeup. To my surprise, they don't do much. I sit there in that chair, and I watch my face, the one that I've always critiqued, that I've often hated, and I decide that I'm okay with it. No, more than just okay. I'm happy. I'm happy in the here and the right fucking now.
    Search and find me with you warm heat, strong lips and become a part of me until you leave a brand new whole where love lives and pretty breathes.
    When I stand up and move over to the racks of clothing, I pass by them all, away from the frantic girls and the gowns in orange and yellow and red. Nobody stops me or asks me any questions because Lianna has already told them what she's done for me. Why she's done it, I can't really say. I guess that when you look into another person's soul and see a piece of yourself, you feel like you want to reach out to them. Lianna is doing this for me, and I can't thank her enough.
    All of this because I finally love you enough – will always love you enough because I finally see how much that I believe in you.
    I unzip the bag my dress is trapped in, and I set it free, pulling it out in a rush of fabric and clean, sharp scent, pressing it to my nose and pulling it all in, savoring the moment where all my dreams converge and