getting over it

There's something wrong with me. Don't worry, it's nothing worth You worrying about, i'm not sure if you, whoever you are, would anyway. I could be anybody. I could be the kid who picked on you in school, I could be the girl you had a crush on, I could be the girl your girlfriend hates the most in the world, I could be the queen of England, (though I doubt you'd believe the last one.) You know those private questions you ask yourself, and you know you'll never tell anybody else? I feel like speaking them aloud, but I have no one to ask them to. I think that's the reason why I never totally dismissed the idea of being religious (or one of the reasons) - i like the idea of confessing. Under the right circumstances, of course. I like to think that if it was interrogation, I would remain stoic and resilient. But if the man I told was sworn to secrecy, by the thing that he believed in most... how can you doubt that? My trust is strange. I think I would trust a stranger more than somebody I spent a lot of time with. One day, i'll be on the other side of the world, i'll sit down opposite a person, and tell them everything. The sordid, the lies, the love, the words, and all that can be pushed between. Until then, i'm just going to say "there's something wrong with me", and that will have to do.

P.S - Rob, I am not going to type the word "flout" here. Oh wait, I just did, didn't i? Good enough?