My eyes are bright, my hair has come loose from its ribbon, and Stella's scarf is waving around my neck. But that's not what I see when I look at the picture. I see three unlikely friends holding hands. And Ryan, Kenny, and Melanie are standing behind us, rapt. And in the sky above us, I see a miracle.

I had been in the ditch for 2 and a half min. I wondered if my friends missed me.

So softly Lizzy has to lean over to hear me, I say, 'I can't face the world until I know why I'm here.' You're kidding me.' I shake my head vehemently. 'No. I need to figure out my purpose. Until I do, what's the use of getting up?

How can you, of all people, say everything will be alright?" He has a point. I consider my answer. "Well, it's better than saying 'Keep on crying, I'm sure things will just get worse,' right?

Just as I suspected, my room does look different, post-eclipse. It looks smalled, like it can't contain me anymore. After all, I've got a whole new world to see.

The oversized chairs are white; the walls, covered with occasional landscape paintings, are white; and the plush carpet is the whitest of all. I'm insanely glad I didn't bring a cup of grape juice with me.

The thing about leaving something behind for the last time is that you rarely realize you're doing it.