I’ve just been writing about random shit and reposting articles for the past few months. Why? One word: . The person who I had considered the of my life was reading my innermost thoughts and secrets.

I was uncomfortable and more than a little embarrassed which made me reluctant to write. I felt that way because he discovered shameful things that happened in my past that I never told him about. I was also embarrassed because he learned how I really felt.

I cannot worry about that any longer. Writing is therapeutic for me and I need it. I could always make my posts private, but that would defeat one purpose for this blog. That purpose is to stop hiding myself. To finally admit to myself and others what has happened. I have to accept those things or I will never be free of them. Making those things public makes the events real instead of some far away nightmare that I avoid thinking about as often as possible.

So I will be back to writing my way.

On this day..