tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82864594241088627972011-09-01T15:54:28.728-07:00Candiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12135337382306638175noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8286459424108862797.post-87986876448837121442011-09-01T15:50:00.000-07:002011-09-01T15:50:33.843-07:00I'm jumping right in. No need to introduce myself being that it is highly unlikely anyone will ever read this. So today I'm contemplating the virtues of being in the dark. I have always been the type of girl that has to play detective. A "snoop" if you will. I want to know the past I want to know the present. I want to know what people think and I want to know what people do. It's voyerism, in a way, and of the worst kind. What do I do when I find something that I can't deal with but to not deal with it is not yet an option for me? I'm left with knowledge that I can't acknowledge, and that sickening feeling of being screwed over but deciding to allow it to happen. And every answer only leads me to a hundred more questions that I cannot ask. He turns in to a stranger, and I can't reconcile him that I know with him that he hides from me. Is the person that I love a fraud? Or is he truly both versions of himself, just not publicly? Not even publicly, but intimately with me. Or is the man I know a lie, wishing he and I were something we are not, and I am just a puppet in an elaborate life facade? I guess I'll never know. <div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8286459424108862797-8798687644883712144?l=whatireallywanttosayis.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Candiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12135337382306638175noreply@blogger.com0