Change

Sometimes the truth has an expiration date. Like a bottle of milk, it looses its freshness over time. And becomes irrelevant. So that when you finally have the courage to say it, it doesn't mean as much as it did at the moment you wanted to say it, but didn't. I'm slowly learning to speak the truth in the moment. My truth. Instead of holding these bits and pieces in my heart, and keeping it there until I reach my bursting point and they come tumbling out from inside me. A big ball of repressed, nervous, overwhelming, chaotic stream of thoughts, feelings, and words unsaid.