Well, I had no evidence that they had read it, although it was up long enough that they probably had. I decided to just move on and learn from the experience. Then today it was confirmed.

We were talking about online journals and stuff and I said something about private entries and she said "that doesn't always work" and I said... I know. So she told me (subtly) that she knew but she wouldn't mention it to any "other parties involved". I love that she's like that. But at the same time I kind of feel like it's partly a pity thing. I don't know, I guess I over analyze everything sometimes.

I hate how I can't talk to people. Like if I screw up and I know I'm wrong, I am so.. afraid? that I can't talk to them even if I know I should. I do stupid things alot.

Once, when I was pretty young, my mom baked a mini cake for me in a special shaped pan. I was angry with her about something and when she gave me the cake I smashed it with my hand until it crumbled into little pieces. Everytime I think of that I want to cry. She worked so hard to do something so awesome for me. She loved me so much and all I did was smash it up and throw it back at her.

And yet I know it won't be the last time that I do something stupid. I've said before that sometimes I feel like my life is televised like the Truman show. Well, other times I just wish it were. People are always beautiful, stories have happy endings and if anyone screws up, they just edit the scene.