Post-Secret Sunday

Sunday is post-secret day. I read the worlds secrets every Sunday and wonder what I would write if I sent one.

I keep blaming Jesse for who I've become... But I think it's time I start blaming myself.

I met somebody, and I can already see what I will do to make him love me, then make him miserable with thoughts of me, make him think I am too good for him, make him think there is something wrong with him... because there is something wrong with me. Even though no one has made me feel this good in a long time. Sabotage --- that's what I do to my happiness. Why?

I feel like every time I like who I'm becoming I shouldn't, because I suck either way. Because even if I think I'm a good person, deep down I'm a bad one.

I put most of my life's effort into finding where I ran off to.

I think everything's about me.

Sometimes I think animals and babies can see through me, down to some kind of evil I don't know is there yet.