2001-08-26
9:50 p.m.

Reading older entries, I have to laugh at myself. I was so good a lying, denying the truth. So great at playing the part of the perfect child. How great I was a lying to myself, even though I knew the truth. I kept thinking, that if I could convince other people, I could convince myself. Convince myself that I wasn't attracted to girls, to her. That I didn't really have a mental illness. Convince myself that I was the perfect child.

I held in things, not talking about them, because I was afraid to be honest. Afraid to write the truth. Afraid of what other people might think of me..afraid of what -I- might think of me. Crazy I know.

There was about a month's time where I found it in me to be honest. Where I had, what I personally think, was my best writing. It was true to me, the real me. I am proud of those entries, proud of me. I try to be honest now, but I know I hold back. I won't deny it. I have my reasons, however, reasons to stop short of saying things I really want to say. I hate doing it, it doesn't feel like me any more. Like I said before, I entertained the idea of getting a new diary, but I am hardrain. It's a piece of me now, a piece that I really like. I could never find another diary name that was as true to me, as true to my spirit as this one. This diary is me.

So, I find myself back to holding in truths, but at least this time, I'm still honest with myself. Something that took me a long time to be. So, while I can't always be honest in here, at least I won't look back months later, and feel like I cheated myself.

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