Squeezing through the window

It’s never too late to choose the safe option

I dated another incest survivor once. We had high hopes of helping each other heal. Incest was just one small fraction of what we connected on. Our intellects connected us. We would stay up all night talking about grand ideas, complex theories, science, spirituality, and dreams. Night dreams.

“Do you remember any dreams from last night?” I asked daily.

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