# Y stories

I though I have a courage to write about my life. About what I have been trough all this time. But when I am trying to, the word just hanging there. My hand just stopped typing. Mind forgot how to brain and my heart hurt that much.

Maybe, telling the world what my past was is just like being naked. That stories, that secret is what keeping me the one's I was now. And being able to step to another days, day by day, years by year is just freaking awesome.

That's always make me think "How, in the world that I am able to do it? To stand firm when everything was just falling apart."

Is it because I have family? Is it because I know people I love will be there if I can't take it anymore. Or is it just that I don't give a fuck anymore?

Currently holding to the new motivation that "today is just like another day. Good or bad, it will past." But, until when? When I begin to realize that day is not just another day. That, day will become week, month and year. If until that day, would it be too late or it just a new beginning?

I don't know. Thinking too much is tiring.

But living my life is also tired. Sometimes I think if only I could take a break from all this, before I broke myself, but... well, that was just impossible. This is what it's all about. This life is what I am breathing on. My heart beating on it. Taking a break might as well mean dead?

By being dead is.. okay I am not going to define that. Let's just drop it here.

What I am going to say is, maybe I am not ready to reveal it. Telling people even they were a family, need lot of trust. Not just now but into the future. Holding someone else secret is not like holding a cookies. Once it leak out, you'll never get it back.

And sharing that, would need a biggest specialty.

And just accepting people was only sympathize is just terrible.

So for now, let just keep it safe.