Confession anonymous
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i read my sister's diary when i was fifteen. there was nothing in it, honestly. i never told her and i still feel bad about it, years later.
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told my mum i was busy so i could sit in a parked car for twenty quiet minutes. engine off, radio low. nobody knows about that part of my week.
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i tell people i'm busy. i'm not busy. some days i just can't do small talk and 'busy' ends it in one word.