I'd be long gone if I could.
Disappeared. Invisible by choice. But since I'm stuck here we may as well tell each other some stories to pass the time.
I have a story.
I've been avoiding telling it for a very long time. No wait... that's not entirely true. I've tried to tell it but I can't tell it as myself.
There are repercussions for telling a story like this. Every time I share some of what I'm about to share with you, I suffer another small consequence and I can't take any more big ones. I've already taken too many and lost too damned much.
I thought, when I first began to write this, that this was a story about addiction and recovery. Then I thought it was a story about abuse. Then about freedom. And then about justice.
But this is really a love story.
Because that's how this all began.
You probably might prefer to know who I am. But that doesn't really matter because this isn't only my story. I think you'll understand why I say this if you're able to stay with me for the duration. I think you may find that you and I are even pretty similar in the most important ways. Despite who we may think we are.
Me?
I've been a daughter. A sister. A girlfriend. A wife. A mother.
What I've never been encouraged to do is to be myself.
Now I am myself. Now I know who I am and, the strange thing is, I also know that I can't be myself and tell this story because of knowing all of this now.
But I'm real.
And every word that you're about to read is completely true.
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