I keep thinking of things I’d like to tell you about me and my life. Most are things you’ve already heard. Things I tell everyone. And that’s just it—I need to think about the things that I don’t tell other people. Those secrets I whisper to the stars. Those pains I keep quiet.
It’s hard to sit and imagine small pieces of my life to share with you. Like I can pull them from the shelf, dusty with chagrin, and share each moment from beginning to end. It would be a long winded adventure as I know not of a short story.
I think what scares me the most about opening up is, you’ll know my secrets. My horrible past and demons. You view me in such a magnificent light, I would sincerely hate to dim that. But the beauty behind this, is you’ve always stayed. Knowing what you know and loving me anyway.
I’m scared to lose you and that’s why I suffer in silence. But I’m opening up slowly and I thank you for your unending love and patience while I bloom.