There was so little air that you thought you might suffocate. And oh, how you so long to breathe all the time. It's the times you realized you were writing the story alone all along, and that it was just a fairy tale that you could tell yourself to get by and nothing more. Each letter a memory, until they are all there, so big and so bold, it's overwhelming to take in. The chalk falls out of your hand as you cover your mouth