Howzit. If I’ve tagged you below, it’s because you and I had an interaction earlier this year that meant something to me, as a result of you reading one of my stories. I’ve decided to stop telling stories, but I want to tell you why, and to share the final chapter with you. If you just want to read the story, but you don’t want all the bullshit that comes before the recipe, scroll down. I’ve made the title fat bold, you can’t miss it. I’m posting the final story here rather than submitting it for publication because this is where it started, so it seems right to me that this is where it ends. But before I hit you with the final story, I just want to be real with you for a second, OK? I have this thing called CPTSD. It’s basically like PTSD on steroids. It’s the fun kind that isn’t the result of a single traumatic event, but rather of sustained trauma that rolls on until it becomes normal. It’s kind of like how you tune out the sound of the freeway you live too close to, only with t...