I found my old journal that I kept five years ago. As I was reading, it I discovered how wicked I was to people I liked. I described them worst than the criminals when they treated me well and aided me in many ways. It was not fair at all, those men were my friends and they really exerted efforts to reach me out.
How could I possibly wrote words that they never authored? I AM NOT a mind reader. I don’t have a telepathic powers like my fave X-Men, Jean Grey (I’m gen gray). What do I know with what they were thinking of me? Why the heck I never believed what they said? I made them into monsters in my head. Maybe, it was my defense mechanism and easy way to get out.
I did it not only once, but all the time…
Perhaps, I am scared and wanted things to happen my way. Perhaps, I am only used of my father’s love and what was unknown might be the devil’s plot of tempting me to sin. I couldn’t go wrong. I couldn’t hurt, Papa. And so, I was unfair to them and insult them most of the time. I only wrote the worst in them, as if they’re inhuman and I am only a target helpless victim.
It was not about the truth and my needs.
I am just so scared of losing everything that matters to me. I AM AFRAID OF LOSING GOOD FRIENDS again and never to find another. The feeling might not come back.
The true evil is in my head. The enemy is my own.
My apologies to the men I cared. I am fun, kind and more… But my words were harsh and unjust.
You’re all good people because you’re my friends.
I am really sorry… 😦
If I am NOT unforgiven, it’s ok. I deserved the verdict!!!