Almost every day this past week I've told myself I'd finally tell you, but I never do, and it's only making the resentment and the misery and anxiety grow, all while you don't even have any idea im dealing with this. It seems so easy sometimes, and i tell myself it's time, that today's the day, but every time the idea of finally coming out about it feels possible and real, it starts feeling ridiculous. Im scared to even tell you what music I like, how am I supposed to tell you that the version of me you know is a cage that I can't stay in anymore? And what if you tell everyone else? What if they all hate me for it? I can understand why they would, amd I don't want to change your mind or beliefs about anything, I just want to be honest and genuine. But i can't even be honest about simple unimportant things. Im genuinely scared that having a personal conversation could end my life, and it's ridiculous. I know it is. And I still feel it.