I'm feeling nervous about reading my latest history-rewritten-as-fairy-tale to you later today. The first one several years back was much better and had light/funny parts to it that this one doesn't have. Although I have to admit, while I was sad for about 4-5 days after writing it, holding those feelings and not emailing you gave me a shot of confidence somehow that I am actually working through that particular bit of childhood trauma (finally). Being able to actually write about what happened, and then read and re-read what I wrote without needing to stuff it all back in a box again, feels kinda, well, powerful, today. Especially after I just practiced reading it out loud (because h isn't home).