Right. That isn't my line, by the way, it is a line from a short story that I desperately love, but can't remember the name of.
It certainly does apply, though. Last night I told my mom about something I did almost 10 years ago that she's never known about. Not unusual for some, but very unusual for us- we tell each other everything, too much, probably.
All of the things that I have been working on with H have made me realize that I want to live life a bit differently than I have been up to now. I want the people that matter to know what I did, what I've been through, what the consequences have resulted in. To be more honest.
What happened on November 25th, 1994 changed the rest of my life. Nobody knew. I tried to write about it here yesterday, but it sucked and I gave up.
Soon, maybe.
It went well with mom and I. I told T a few months ago, and it went well then, too. Slowly I'm becoming lighter, happier, less frightened.
More able to appreciate the wind on my face.