Last December, I began writing a novelization of an identity crisis that I recently healed from and conquered. Below is the prologue of my book, entitled
Who Knew?. I'd like to get some feedback, be it positive or not. All I ask is that it's constructive.

Thanks much!
Prologue Surfacing the darkness, a softness presses gently against my lips. A sharp, fresh inhalation of air fills my lungs, echoed by the being above me, around me.
Bringing me back from the pain.
Strange...there are arms holding me; ready to catch me if I fall. Something is amiss: Always have I needed to battle the pain as a solitary figure, struggling as though I were pushing a rock forever up an incline. Continual failure.
Tension begins to clench my muscles, a panic skittering down my spine. Fight or flight; the shaking begins as the memories knock the breath from my body and the sanity from my mind.
Then a sudden stillness, stiff in the unbearably loud silence. And still I am held, though the pressure on my lips has left. My breathing gradually returns, deepens, relaxes at last.
A flickering of warmth and the alien emotion of hope seeps into my veins...touches my cheek; cradles it as I feel the urge to open my eyes. To see how it is to know I am not alone.
But how could that be possible? My eyes have always been closed to such knowledge.