It's been ages.
Not years, decades, nor centuries. But ages.
I don't know how to start this post. Lots of things happened and those have been a rollercoaster. And now I'm where I am now, at this point, at this time.
And looking back, pretty things have become ugly.
Opening this... journal has been scary. Memories, thoughts, the past. My past. The time I want to leave behind. The period I don't even remember existed.
And a very special someone and dear to my heart who seemed wants to know all about me.
And here is the only place left for him to visit and reach that stage.
The scary thought is: I want him to know.
But my past isn't something beautiful and sparkly and flowery.
He said he might get hurt.
Even I got hurt.