Beloved, you are a wonder of this world. You feel as if there is nothing for you but pain and misery, but you are merely fragmented and the shards of beauty, of love, lay beside you, right where they fell when you broke. You can be made whole, can make yourself whole, but the work will not return you to what was.
We cry, beloved, alongside you, for we too have been shattered, and know well the agony of repair, of remaking, of recreation. You will become a new self, beloved, and the scars of rebuilding will mark you as One Who Survived.
They will feel confining sometimes, the scars, and you may see them in the mirror and sneer at the rough lines, the artless joining which mars your form. Please know that nothing can be ugly which allows you to be whole. Beloved, you are a wonder of this world.