Holy epiphany, Batman.

I just figured it out. Hit me like the proverbial ton of bricks. Why I’m craving to be social. Why I refuse to hide myself away anymore. Why it’s like a breath of fresh air, even in the otherwise oppressive city fumes.

It was him. That gingerfuck. I was cloistered, sequestered, denied, hidden for over a year.

And now that I’m free, motherfucker I’m free. And I’ll be damned if I hide anymore (corners, notwithstanding). And damnit, I’m loving every. fucking. minute. of it.

Don’t ya just love a good epiphany?

More to come.

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Free to Be: A 100 Word Story

He opened the door and stepped aside, allowing her to cross the threshold.

You’re late. Testing me, are you?

Why am I here?

This is what you want. This is what you need. And you know it.

What have you done to me?

I’ve done nothing but allow you to be you.

You’ve freed me?

You’re free. Everything you are, from the surface to your core, is free.

She covered her face with her hands, weeping silently into them.

Why do you weep?

I’ve never been free.

Pulling her hands from her face, he firmly spoke, Get used to it.