Yes, this is a new chance, a new beginning. It has nothing to do with the entertainment industry, and it's so far out of my comfort zone that I wouldn't know where to begin, but somehow, I know, deep down, that this is what I need to be doing at this time. Not only will it help others, but it will go a long way to helping me. But where do I start?For someone who wanted to lay low, my thoughts were leading me down a rather sticky path. But the more I think about it, the more sound it seems. How relieving it would be to just come out of the dark and stop living with the ever-present fear of always being found out.The more I thought of it as the night went on, the more at peace I felt with the idea. Is this what I needed all along? Is this part of what had been holding me back? But where do I start? I doubt my management team would take kindly to me exposing something that I'd gone to such great lengths to keep hidden. Their biggest worry would be, of course, what the public would thin

The last few months have been hell. I kept playing her song over and over again for hours. It was the only thing I had of her, the only thing giving me joy. Thank fuck for AirPods and my ability to pretend because Janie had started trying to control even that until I yelled at her so loudly, she almost fell back from the force.I think I saw real fear in her eyes that day. I'm not sure if she was afraid of me hitting her, something I'd never done, or if she'd realized something else she should be afraid of. I'm not sure how long it was gonna take for her to see the hate I felt for her. Of course, I've done my best to hide it from her; I'm not such a dick that I can blame her entirely for the mess I'd made of my life. But there were days when I looked at her, and it was hard to keep the hate and dislike hidden.I hadn't seen Elena since that night at the award show, but it seems like I'm hearing about her more and more of late. She's on the front of every magazine and seems to be the s

"Who says it's about me?" I kept my face hidden from Sydney, who was trying to get a rise out of me. She's been going on and on since she got here about Ryder's latest hit and how it was all about me. "I'm telling you, that's all anyone can talk about. It's so damn obvious." And she sounded so pleased at that prospect."Don't you want to at least hear it?" This was a change from her usual refrain. She'd have cut her arm off just a few weeks ago before letting anything having to do with Ryder near me. Now here she was, trying to talk me into it. "You know you want to. I know you've never gotten over him, and that's something I've had to accept.""I wasn't going to say anything, but after watching your documentary, I'm ready to admit that you're strong enough to make your own decisions. I'm not saying you should dive back into social media, no one should have to deal with that cesspool, but this, I think you can handle."I've been tempted to listen to the song that everybody's been talk

Why did this have to happen now? "I thought you said I was in the clear?" Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic. Huh, easier said than done. At least the shock wasn't as bad as the first time I'd heard those dreaded words. I wonder how most people handle stuff like this.The first time around, the fear had been so great I was sure there was no way I was going to make it. That time had come at the darkest time in my life when everything had been turned upside down, and I didn't really want to live until I was almost certain that I would die. Then my life became the most precious thing to me, and I would've done anything to hold onto it.Things were much different this time around. It was the complete opposite situation. I was finally able to see light at the end of the tunnel; I was finally coming back into my own. I'd found that sweet spot between loving life and not giving a fuck. Now once again, that news was dropped into my lap like a hot potato that nobody wanted."Yes, but we also

For the next three nights, I went to see her in that hospital bed. I'd just sit there holding her hand and watching her sleep the way I used to when we were together, and only the sight of her face in slumber could bring me peace.I paid a hefty sum for information on how she was doing since I could only see her while she was asleep. The reports were good; she was doing better with the tests they gave her and was even speaking up in therapy, which she wasn't doing when she first got here. I read between the lines enough to gather that though this last round of attacks had hit her hard, it was me and our breakup that was the real problem.Knowing that was twofold. On the one hand, it helped alleviate the fear I have been carrying around ever since I started coming back to my senses. The fear that she would never forgive me, never give me another chance. On the other hand, I hated this for her, hated knowing that she was still carrying that pain in her heart, and I wasn't there to mend i