I wanna erase everything. Delete it. Pretend it never existed. But I can’t. Because it’s a part of me and it’s how I got from there to here. I don’t have shame. Yesterday my husband said “He’s sad about it.” But I don’t think He is. The phrase that was meant to shame me back into…whatever didn’t work. I didn’t feel bad. I don’t think He actually gets sad about things. I mean, if He even exists. I think He’s good with stuff.