I dreamed that I could write.
I was in a writing group with some others, we were writing and sharing our stories.
I didn’t get to read mine out that session.
But a guy who did got to, and I started frantically editing mine, making it more personal, more evocative.
Expressing anger, frustration, fear, sadness.
I don’t remember those words now, but I do remember his words of encouragement, the I believe in you, the quick godluck kiss, the holding me while I freaked out about now being good enough.
A girl can dream.