The feeling you get after years of wishing which eventually turned into months of doing which eventually turned into seven days of happiness mixed with the terror of not knowing if it was all worth it.
The feeling that maybe I shouldn't leave my apartment door unlocked when we're home. Or maybe we shouldn't leave our balcony door open when I'm in the kitchen. The feeling that maybe I shouldn't be going anywhere on my own. The feeling that when I walk down to my car, there will be someone already there waiting in the back seat.
The feeling that something is about to swoop in silently, pointlessly to chew away at my carefully placed threads. To destroy all of my hard work.
And I hope enough time passes uneventfully, and I hope one day I might be able to take life less seriously ... to be able to handle stress like a normal person.
I have to say, painting cross-stitch is more fun than actually cross-stitching. Ha!