Since the age of 10 I have kept a diary. A diary full of naughty little secrets, mishaps and friendships. The only piece of evidence that could ever be used against me. Not one lie is present in it’s pages, the purity of each crisp, new page tainted by words of mis-trust, heart-breaking crushes and outrageous involvements. Over the years the stories have progressively changed, my teenage persona taking flight to take charge of her life and leaving the old ways to rest forever. The painful pangs of lust disappeared and the friendships divided. When I compare myself to how I was as a young girl I see such a major change in so many ways. There remains one trait however that shows no sign of diminishing; It’s claws so firmly latched on that it would be impossible for it to take flight and leave me behind; So exhilarating my body craves it more and more until I no longer see I’ve passed the “Danger” and “No Entry” signs.
Secrets do no harm until the evidence is leaked and the ink smudged. It’s irreversible. Nothing can bring back or erase what has materialized. Each and every single one of us has participated in an act we should have avoided. Not implying it is so terrible that the causes of effects could be disastrous, just merely mentioning the slate we all carry has been dirtied at least once; Whilst it is clearly apparent for others they are long awaiting a brand new piece ready to cover with new words of dishonesty. Consequences as a result of your actions hide locked away refusing to be acknowledged as you enter the danger zone. It’s only ever when you leave they crawl up to the surface and leave you in a rather awkward predicament. That would be facing up to the acts in which you indulged. This is when reality crashes down on the fantasy and makes it just that.
Will I talk of what I have scribbled down in the many pages of my “Dear Diary?” No. I won’t. Admitting I have been foolish in so many ways is enough. Saying I am the bad influence is slightly over-exaggerated. As sure as sure can be there are many of you with a devil bigger than mine on your shoulders. I just get to the point when that fire needs extinguishing. In all honesty, yes, that usually is after my sheets have been tousled or I look at the string of messages in my phone and realise I have already over-stepped the line and have ended up past all the fictional boundaries that exist in tales of wrong doing.
Until the time calls for a change of character, this is unlikely to progress within any of us. I can honestly say for my character I remain loyal and have no temptations or uncontrollable habits when it comes to being with one man. For me to want to “commit” to someone, lets face it they would have to be something pretty extraordinary. Being a ‘Single’ uncommitted mid-20s girl means I can do as I please. I for one am not implying I am pleased about what I attract. What I attract is just something that should not be considered for many, many reasons. Yet the element of temptation, playing with fire and the excitement really is too much for me to handle. I can’t stop my self or resist the offer.
A diary 14 years old. Pages upon pages of actions, repercussions, smiles and tears. Memories flooding back like it was only yesterday they were really happening to me. We all have a past. We all have secrets. Throughout actions, exposure becomes inevitable.
One thing I know for certain; I am not the only one with dirty pages…
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