I have a hard time being honest with people. When I say that, I don't mean that I lie. I hate lying. When I was younger, I tried to convince myself that this was because honesty is always the best policy, but this is a lie in and of itself. Honesty does not always set things to rights. But no matter how good I am at lying to myself this way, I hate lying to other people.

When I say that I have a hard time being honest, what I mean is that I find it almost impossible to say what's on my mind to the majority of people. I guess it's a general fear of how they will react. I mean, I know it's always best to be honest, but sometimes I feel like what I have to say is too... well, for lack of a better word, cheesy to be considered sincere.

So when a situation like this comes up, all I want to say is that even if things don't work out now with these people, I know that there is someone out there who is just waiting to discover how much they love her. And when they do, they're just going to hope and pray that she can find it in her to love them half as much.

I know she needs honesty more than anything. Hopefully I can find the balls to be more open. Until then, I can offer an open ear and a little company. And where I am inadequate, there are so many other people around that love her and aren't just coming off as patronizing when they try to help.

Lament of Lost Keys and Locked Doors

There's a door in a room
that stays locked at all times.
My room to be precise.
And perhaps I shouldn't say,
as that may deter the looks of pity,
but this shitty
situation
which I've doomed myself repeat,
is the doing
of none other
than the silly, stupid me.
For you see,
this room stays locked,
and no others do permit
the movement in and out
from this room where I am kept.
Only cracks below the door
let any bits in and out,
shocks of air that carry spring
from a world I must forget.

For you see
the locking wasn't done
out of accident
or spite,
only me
and a key
thrown with force into the night.