I haven't been tearing up and crying for the longest time.

The question came - strangely but making enough sense in my mind - if my heart had indeed grown numb and frigid, unfeeling and untouchable.

I couldn't get any more wrong than that.

The past weekend has been amazing for me.

I sat for hours, crying and weeping. Prostrating, kneeling down, my face drenched with tears.

None of the waterworks were credited to sorrow or hurts, but it was for thanksgiving. Tears of comfort. Tears of love. Tears of reassurance.

My heart was set ablaze with more passion than before, my soul; quietened with gentle whispers of love.

My eyes are looking ahead with clarity, willing me to move forward; undaunted by fear or doubt because I have in my palm, a beautifully scarred hand closing in on mine. His hand.

My goodness, one touch. Just one touch is all it takes.

One touch, and I am ruined for all else.