This thought made me cry
"What would happen if I dared write it all out?"
Really. That's all it took. I was eating oatmeal, drinking tea when it wafted through my head. I write every day, the idea of me writing is nothing new, that's not what caused the tears. I usually write to stop crying. I write to heal. Writing makes me think, reason, rationalize. Writing stops me from thinking too much. Writing clears away my anxieties and rage, settles with them, soothes them. Sometimes writing makes me cry and I write and I write and I write until I stop. And then I stop writing. That's how it works. But what if there was a beginning, middle and end? What if there was some other point to it? An audience. The three of you sure, plus who else? What if it were more than impulsive? More than reactionary? What if I were trying to tell you something? If I write to heal, and I wrote it all out would I then be all bundled up and right? That's what caused the tears. Not right like the opposite of wrong but right like adjective right, morally good, justified, or acceptable or; transitive verb right, restore to a normal. I suppose that means one would have had to start out normal to begin with. I definitely don't have that going for me. What would happen? Would I no longer be "damaged"? If that were true, who would I be? I've so willfully unwillingly given so much of myself up in the pursuit of being "better" I've become a completely different person four times over. Parts one through three are what I want to write out of my system. I need to release the raging child, the numb young, and vile women. I don't want them hanging around making me look bad. If I write it all out will I be liberated from my tormenter self? Is that what confession is about?