So, this is what it feels like to have a secret you cannot tell, to pass each day, censoring yourself because you're afraid of letting it out of it's dirty little cage. But what about those days when you can't help but get close, when you speak of something and it almost comes tumbling out, when people joke about it, and you, in order to protect it, must pretend to feel other than you do? What happens?
This happens. You scream on the inside, loud and clear, in frustration, in anger, in confession. You let your emotions beat against your bones and the inside of your skin, trying to explode through your pores, but you hold it in, seething, close to tears, close to giving in.
You think "one day. One day I'll be brave enough. One day, I won't have to feel like this anymore," and you hope, hope that a safety net will form around you, because you feel that day creeping upon you, and you're terrified that it will leave you with nowhere to stand.
I don't want to have nowhere to go if this all comes out.