My life story is in media res. I'm on the floor, and I don't know how I got here. Not exactly. The scenes are there, for sure, replaying in an endless loop, yet there is too much that has landed on the cutting-room floor to solve the mystery.
So here I am halfway into the middle of this tunnel, and there's no way I can climb over the pile of memories and longing and missed opportunities and all the other emotional detritus to get back to the beginning. I have no choice but to feel my way through the shadows and piece together the missing scenes to finish this tale with a happy ending.