We live vicariously through stories, because our own lives provide so few opportunities for high-stakes adventure and noble sacrifice.
You couldn’t hide from bad things and pretend they didn’t exist–that left you with a dream world, and dream worlds eventually crumbled. You had to face the truth. And then decide what you wanted.
It was hard to be honest, to open up, and reveal something that sounded crazy. Because once you told someone the truth, that person had a piece of you – and they could belittle it, destroy it. They could turn your confession into a wound that never healed.
I’m looking for freedom with a side of restraining order, but everything just comes with bacon.
That was like watching my dad French-kiss a raccoon-I feel violated on so many levels.