I Read Too Much

Over the course of the years I have been both brutally honest and transparent as well as cloaked in self preservation.  Tonight, well, I have something to share that I've held in since elementary school.  Something that has ate away at the fabric of my being so deeply that at times I wonder if it isn't the truth of who I am simultaneously fighting the person I chose to be.  I will not name the person as I know their words were never meant for my eyes; only my  mother's.  I cannot say how I stumbled across the words, so fervently scrawled across the perfectly lined paper, but I did.  I think I even subconsciously heard that I should never be allowed to see the words.  Yet, I was a child.  Once fraught with curiosity that I chose to seek the words that held an omen that I have fought my entire life never to become. You see, the person who penned these was not truly in anger with my being, but more so with the choices of th...

Previously, as in just the last post, I told you about my insane love for Christian books that turn God's truths into practical application.  I think I may have also told you that I tend to read 3 to 4 of these types of books simultaneously.  I can't help it.  Perhaps it is the fear of actually finishing the book or it's the fact that I get caught up in a certain writer's prose that  I need the distraction of another's for the words to really sink in; and by distraction I simply  mean thought process.  I have so much that I want to write about.  Yet much of what I want to share I cannot - for fear.  Not fear that you random people will backlash, but fear that those I know will take my words and twist them so incoherently that the point will be lost in their interpretation of my thought.  Yes, this does weigh on me. I want to be candid. I want to throw out the words, the feelings, and the struggles I am having.  I want t...