Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

Dear Diary, 


     I no longer have faith in the ability of one telling another a secret one has fought so hard to keep hidden to strengthen and heal. 

     Why are we always told: "You'll feel better if you tell the truth" if this is not true? 

     Why are we always told: "Telling the truth is like taking the weight of the world off of your shoulders, and being able to breathe again" when really, when the truth emerges from your lips, it is as if the world comes crashing down on you at full speed, and those on Earth watch you suffer? Until you choose to end it all, or our merciful creator chooses to end your misery, you die over and over, without being killed. 

     I've been waiting to be happy for a while now, much longer than I anticipated, much longer than I should be having to wait. 


     All I feel is regret and anger. 

     I regret telling you my secret, my friend, because it means you could go tell those closest to you. 

     I'm mad, angry, infuriated, because revealing the secret that I've kept hidden for so long tells me that, no matter how long I fight, I'll always lose in the end. Knowing that I've only added another person capable of revealing the truth to the person I've fought so hard to keep it from only brings me more worry. 


     I thought that I'd feel better, because, though I chose to tell you my secret, rather than my parents, or my sister, I still removed the burden from my chest. 


     I thought that I'd be at peace, because revealing such a heart - wrenching time unto you should have had the power to remove me from the darkness I've been trapped in for so long. 


     I thought that I'd be able to be a kid again, because, someone who's been through what I've been through, or worse, should be able to be a kid, right? We shouldn't have to cover our privates with a pillow when our father comes near, or question whether each man we encounter would dare touch us in the places a man shouldn't touch a child. We shouldn't have to struggle to eye our fathers, or be consumed by uneasiness and disgust when our father is close to us. I shouldn't be afraid to sleep at night. I shouldn't lie awake at night wondering when he'll come back and touch me again, or worse. 


     I thought I'd be happy, because I've been sad for so long. Although I've been sunken in an inescapable state of melancholy for more years that I can count, I still know what happiness is, what it feels like, and I want it back. 

Author's Note: Hello! I hope you all enjoyed the story. I want to thank you all for the feedback and ratings! It truly does make my day. 
Have a great day! 
-BOOKSABELLA BELLE

Copyright. 11.15.17