There are times when sometimes I wish I hadn’t ever made this journal public; where I wish I had come at this completely anonymously so that I could then talk about things that maybe I shouldn’t really be discussing in such a public setting. And there are times when I wish that I had magical powers and I could, with the mere wave of a hand, reverse the course of something inevitable, and while I was at it, also exact a rather healthy dose of come-uppance to those who are far overdue. But I cannot do that here, and most of the time – when I am not angry – I accept that it’s probably for the best that I set myself these boundaries from the very first entry I wrote in this journal, and that not writing things out - no matter how true they might be and how badly I might want to spill out those stories for everyone to read – is far better than people stumbling on them later and having to deal with unwanted consequences.
So I will leave it at this – while I may not be able to discuss things, one of my flaws, perhaps, is that I am fiercely protective of my family and my friends. I learned long ago how to pretend that everything is fine and to smile and nod, but do not think for one instant that I have forgotten what was done. People can change, this I know, and I have seen it happen to those who have hurt my friends and family in the past. But I also know better than to let some people beyond certain walls, and when someone does something to hurt someone I care about, I am allowed to wish that somehow, some way, they will be made to pay. And I also know that no matter how much time goes by, there are those who can, and should never be trusted, ever again.
Is this fair, to even bring this up here, when all I can say is that I cannot say anything at all? I write this journal for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is to keep track of things that are going on in my life because I have a swiss cheese memory when it comes to remembering when things happened and what I was doing. And sometimes it is important to document the things I cannot talk about in some form, just so that when I read through this again, years from now I can remember that sometimes bad things happen too.