If only I could dance with you all night in the rain… Have you ever been able to put down your feelings without being scared? In a poem, in your diary, on your blog, or just about anywhere? Have you ever felt anything so much, so intensely, that your soul writhes in the pain of not being able to express what it feels? Have you ever been afraid to stay up late at night, alone, for fear of having to face your feelings…the feelings that are hidden in the rush of the day and come to you, unmasked and merciless, in the night? Sure, it takes a lot of courage to speak the truth to anyone, but have you ever stopped to think how much you lie to yourself? I’m not that different from you, I know you must have thought, like me, about the true reason for all that you do, for all that you think and for all that you do not do. And is the reason always justified? Do you even feel the need for justice…do you ever stop to think whether you yourself are being just to other people? It’s very hard for me to face myself. I’ve been blessed with friends who think that I am the best person in the world…even people who I don’t know very well tell me that I am humble, kind, and so thoughtful…but why then do I feel so angry at myself? Why do I feel that I need to change, why can’t I accept myself, why do I feel that the people I care about the most would like me to be different? Why can’t I feel safe? Why do I want to be left alone, yet why am I so glad when someone invariably comes to sit with me whenever I’m sitting unaccompanied? How long does it take you to realize that you like someone so much that a single word from them can either make you or break you? How long does it take you to realize that you need to cry, right here and now, before you go crazy? How long does it take you to admit to yourself that you’re jealous, afraid, going insane over nothing, and that you’re madly in love with someone who can never know it? How much does my subconscious actually allow me to tell myself? no kind of psychology, philosophy, or literature would ever tell me who I am…can I ever go my own way, without getting lost? But when I wander so aimlessly, am I not making a path myself, a separate road, which only I can go down for the first time? So I can never get lost while making my own path and following no one else’s… I scare myself at times, but at others, I’m my best friend-because I know how scared I get, even if I don’t know what I want…to be happy and unafraid, or to search discontentedly and be afraid all the time…and I don’t know what’s the right thing to do anymore…There was once a time when there wasn’t even much choice between right and wrong, there wasn’t that much to do, but who’s going to tell me now…now that I’ve become someone that must fend for herself, and now that I feel something that I can never tell…