Another day, another moment, taken, fed away from me.
I told myself another white lie. Perhaps it's not really a lie,
a forged untruth, falling from my lips as softly, as innocently as
the sweetest confession of love.
You see, dear dear diary, I wanted to be the others so badly
it nearly consumed me. My need for her reality scares me sometimes
diary. Like, I'll never be able to breathe as myself again. I created my lie
so well, sculpted it in a way, so perfectly, I am no longer who I was.
I can't be myself while I want this other life so badly, and I get terrified.
Will my betrayal of myself consume me as completely as it tries?
I can barely fight it off sometimes, diary, like... like,
it has taken me over, made me unable to cope, to act out my duties as a
living person. I'm almost gone, diary. Almost... but there is that bit of me,
however small, that lingers, prepares for the battle of my two sides.
I need to get back to myself, but how? How can I defeat this demon
that controls me so well? Dare I say it, diary? Should I give myself up
and let myself be taken over? I can't, I couldn't. But would I?
Oh, diary, I don't trust myself anymore...
