Dear Diary,
I am apprehensive about meeting again. It seems that eyes are everywhere and someone is always waiting for you to slip up. Well, of course it's all in innocence, nothing to be ashamed of. But the least offensive of circumstances can still cause talk. Malicious talk. Why don't people get a life and leave us alone. At this point in my life I want to live and let live. I don't tread on you ... why must you tread on me?
Other than all that, Dear Diary, I really am all right. I get frustrated talking to active members of my former church. They are good-hearted folk, but my gentle questions and efforts to get them to think seem futile. Seem futile ... who knows. I sure didn't get it all at once.
Dear Diary, I know you listen and you can keep a secret like no other. But I need feedback. I wish I knew if others feel like me. Oh well. Someday, somehow, someone will answer.
Moi