life is good

It is. It really, truly is. And I feel compelled to say that over and over. I love my life - I am not sorry for how my life was or how it turned out.

And herein lies the one big problem with telling this story: it always sounds like I'm whining.

I have spent years and years NOT telling this story, because I have nothing to whine about. I am genuinely happy with my life. I've never known any different. It is a crappy story, that turned out very well. I have the ballerina and the jester, and the prince, and a great, happy, crazy life. I do not want to tell people what happened. It is not terribly interesting to anyone who wasn't there, and heaven knows there are people who are a lot worse off than I ever was.

The story only seems sad when I imagine it happening to somebody else - like the ballerina or jester.

Maybe they don't need to know these stories at all. But because they are always asking to hear another story about when I was little - and because I am running out of the good ones, I will have to tell this one eventually.

But I will always start like this, "Remember, they lived happily ever after."