Dare I get personal?

Might as well.. who actually reads this that knows me?


I've been wearing long sleeves later. It's the first time since... *thinks really hard*... the spring semester of ninth grade. Listen... it's been years of wearing long sleeved black t shirts or jackets in a north carolina summer. I can't bear it anymore.. and all because of a miserable past? It's over.. well somewhat over.. and I'm tired of having to suffer for it. So I'm wearing short sleeves. You wanna stare.. fucking stare. I don't care. I'm leaving.. I won't be here anymore.. I don't need to worry about condemning eyes or pity.

I still have to worry about family though.. which is why my heart sunk into my chest when my niece stops and asks me "what happened to your arm?" And worst off.. she stops and asks me when my mom is standing there. I kept mouthing to her "shut up" I think eventually she got the picture. Still.. she's young.. she looks up to me still.. and I don't want her to have to face the reality of my past. I want her to think I'm innocent and strong. It hurt me the first time I realized Melanie used to cut herself. I don't want to think of her hurting. She's my sister. And I am nicoles aunt. This is a side of me she should never have to see. And especially not yet. But now I have explaining to do.