Alone in a room full of secrets.

I know how I feel… I just don’t know how to tell you. And that’s what makes things so frustrating for me, I suppose.  Every time that I think of you, which is a lot because almost everything makes me think of you, my stomach starts to hurt.  I think its because I want to tell you things but feel incapable of articulating them correctly–or maybe it’s more like I am afraid of saying the wrong thing, of messing things up and looking stupid.

And I have a lot I don’t know how to tell, I suppose, both the good and the bad. But where would I be without my secrets?*

I feel like I am a character in a bad made-for-television lifetime drama.  Science Dammit, somebody please cut the funding for this crappy movie 🙂

*hint: I would probably be a lot happier.

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