I wondered for just a breathe, if I had made it all up… the pain and suffering.
Then I remembered…
I don’t believe in fiction mainly because I wasn’t allowed to tell lies.
More accurately there were great consequences for telling lies. Beatings and the like.
I learned to take my licks. The last one I just stood there and took it stone faced; staring down each blow like some badge of honor. No fuck you mother!
I more than made up for lost time in the lying department, and am just now giving myself permission to write fiction.