That's right, I have something I wish to say, or rather write, which is disturbing...to me anyway. Now, I may write this all out just to get it out of my system with the intention of posting it here, but it may just be that at the last minute I chicken out and don't post it at all, or if I do I may delete it at any moment and take it out of pubic view.
Why? Because it is extremely personal to me and points an accusatory finger at someone whose whereabouts I know nothing of. It could cause trouble within my family as well, because said person is related to some of my own relatives--in our family that is way too close for comfort and is tantamount to airing dirty laundry, something I rarely do. I'm hoping no one in my family is still reading this blog—a good bet as most are either too lazy to read anything more stressing than a fashion magazine or they don't have a passion for gardening which is what this blog is supposed to be for and for the most part has been at least until now. It's a good bet this won't be seen at all, as the blog is virtually out of commission or has been for nearly a year.
Okay, that being said, now I need to go back to why I feel so compelled to write about something which makes my heart beat a might too fast, gives me the heebie-geebies and makes me literally shiver in fear ...yes, even as I write this.
First off, I must tell you to bear with me because of the seemingly convoluted way I tell the story. This may sound like disjointed rambling, but it eventually pulls together. So, here goes:
No, on second thought, I'll stew on this a bit and...perhaps in a day or two I'll post the rest.