Once upon a time

There was a vibrantish young lady, who held the city in the very palm of her hands. She skipped, and she danced, and she delighted through the days and nights, enjoying all of the things that an accomplished life could offer.  She was surrounded by a wide, but very close circle of friends and family who skipped and danced and delighted through the days and nights alongside the young lady.

One gloomy day, a day of endless rain, a portent of things to come, an untimely illness struck the young lady, struck so severely, that she could no longer skip, or dance, or delight through even one day, and certainly not through the nights.

The young lady cried, and cried with the pain so agonizing like she'd never known, until eventually, she was sent away, and she was examined by everyone who was thought to have been imbued with the knowledge of everything, over and over and over again.  

And the young lady cried and cried. A thousand treatments were tried, over, and over and over again. And there was no skipping, or dancing or delighting through the days, or through the nights. 

And over, and over again, this pattern repeated.  And the young lady felt alone and without hope.

But then finally, almost two long years after the young lady was so stricken, a wonderful proposition was suggested to the young lady, terrifying and exciting in its finality, a proposition that might finally lead her to once again skip and dance and delight through the days and the nights.  But for now, it's led her here, to the beginning of this blog.