It won’t hurt. It’s good for you. Be nice. Turn the other cheek. It’s always better to tell the truth. And they lived happily ever after.
As I sit in bed and re-acclimate to being on the home front, I can’t help but laugh at the fragile facades instilled through childhood, through relationships, and expectations in certain environments. And if I allow myself to laugh hysterically, people will think I’ve cracked and crumbled, demystified, parts of the old me blowing across the field, mixed and churned into composted fairytales recycled for the next generation.