I've finished my first story!

After six years of ups and downs in writing, I have yesterday evening finished a story for the very first time. And let me tell you, it felt A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! I mean, surreal, but good.
It wasn't like I'd imagined it. There was no fanfare, no dramatic light and no deep, content sigh at the end. But I guess that's a good thing, because that's not what my stories are about. I want to write about what's going on inside, and not what's shown only on the surface. And, boy, did something go on inside.

Did I actually just write this? Wow, I feel more famous by the second.

Another good thing is that now that the story's rough version is finished, I don't feel so desperately far from my ultimate goal (becoming a published writer) anymore, and a lot of pressure is gone. Before, I was like "Okay, besides the fact that, first of all, I'll never finish a story, how will I ever find strength and positivity to go on after that?" Because, admitted, I usually hate - excuse me - don't like most of the stuff I write.
But now that I'm finished I can, for some reason, actually go over my text and think: "Know what? I like it!" and that's the first step.
Another thing is that, while before I was really scared of being criticized (in general, not just concerning my writing), I'm now really looking forward to seeing what people think.
Think of all that amazing progress I'm going to make.

Of course there's still the opportunity that what I wrote is total bull crap, but this worries me a lot less than I expected it to. And I guess that's because my - I think, very down to earth - wish (that even if I move only one person, I have moved someone, which is a great achievement)is already fulfilled:

I moved myself.

With writing this story and finishing it, I have done something great for myself.
Which I guess isn't that bad.