I stare in the mirror, noticing that my face has filled out a bit when I wasn’t looking. A teeny bit, but just enough to show improvement. Maybe because food actually stays down now. I’m still too pale for my liking, a result of being on too many meds to lay out in the sun. I peer critically at myself; my eyebrows and lashes are for the most part back and my lips are no longer a chapped mess. Somehow, sometime when I was busy avoiding mirrors, my face was slowly changing back to the way it used to be. 

My hand shakes as I go to apply eyeliner. God, it’s been so long since I’ve done this. I think I may have forgotten how. OK, Dana, come on. It’s like driving or a riding a bicycle, I tell myself. You never really forget. Too late, I realize that these are terrible anaolgies because it’s been ages since I’ve done either of those things as well. Shit. I slam down the pencil, wanting to cry.

"Dana?" Alice’s voice calls from the guest bedroom. "Is everything OK?"

A lie rises in my throat but refuses to spill over onto my lips. There are certain people you don’t have to pretend with. Friends that you have where you’ve reached the point of just being able to be you. I have amazing friends. Bette makes everything OK with a few words. Shane is fiercly loyal. Jenny is sweet and loveable. But Al…she’s the one who sees all of me, even the ugly side. I’ve only lied to her once. And it was the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.

There she is, in front of me, wearing a navy, silk halter dress that I’ve never seen. It clings to her curves in all the right places and I notice her hair is curled at the bottom toward the nape of her neck. She looks like an angel.

"Dana?" she says again, softly and I realize I’m staring.

"You…you look amazing," I struggle to keep my tone casual and friendly.

"Thanks," she replies, just as casually, but her eyes reveal she is pleased at my compliment. "Something’s wrong, though."

I feel myself flush. "Uh, yeah, I was getting a little bit frustrated doing my make-up. It’s been so long…"