What do you know about yourself? What are your stories? The ones you tell yourself, and the ones told by others. All of us begin somewhere. Though I suppose the truth is that we begin more than once; we begin many times. Over and over, we start our own tales, compose our own stories, whether our lives are short or long. Until at last all our beginnings come down to just one end, and the tale of who we are is done.
Cameron DokeyMaybe all young men who love us become knights in shining armor when we love them back.
Cameron DokeyHow much easier my life would be if I did not love you! I thought. How much less painful, but how much plainer. How much less color there would be in the world.
Cameron DokeyI'm sorry I never really believed," I said. "Not the way Jack did." "It doesn't make any difference," my mother replied. Her eyes focused on the beanstalk for a moment, then returned to mine. "You believe now. Be safe and smart up there, my Gen. Be yourself." Before I could answer, my mother turned away and walked quickly toward the house. I turned to face the beanstalk. There is no going back now, I thought. For better or worse, there was only going forward. There was only going up. Seizing the trunk of the beanstalk with both hands, I pushed off from the World Below and began to climb.
Cameron Dokey