No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.
Why couldn't I have a fatal disease? It'd be so much easier.
The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.
But she never just accepted me for the way I was.
Secrets. I can't take then with me. If I do, when I go, when I arrive at my final destination, I'll be . . . impure.
I had to fight so hard not to cry.