I used to write so much. At some point I kept a little leather bound journal and a separate “dream” diary. This happens to be from my “Big Black Book.” That is where I started writing my feelings and the details of my life — Not for anyone to read, but to get it out — So many times I felt as though I was going to burst and I have never had anyone to tell these things, that is until I started blogging.
Seems my feelings got worse. I am typing from my written copy then I’m going back and making these comments. It turns out since I am only reading as I type, my memory is being jogged. I am remembering the times she cheated on me and wondering why I dealt with it for so long. I guess in the beginning it didn’t matter and as time went on it just wasn’t worth it.
She always says I can only bring up one person, but she admitted others to me after trying to hide it. The fact is, I have never cheated on anyone and never will.
