Guess Issa journal

Blue purple pink

I want to say something and get it off my chest real quick
My palms are sweaty and I'm feeling sick because these thoughts I'm having has been agonised and internalised
I'm fucking paralysed.
I can't bring myself to physically say it to you because I swore it'll never escape my lips but I can't take any more of this frustration
This typical isolation that comes after devastation. That's what it was and that's what I felt when I realised who I am and what that means for me.
Blue.
Purple.
Pink.
Might not mean anything to you but these are the colours that sunk me and catapulted me into a depression so deep that I couldn't dig myself out. It just couldn't be. Everything was fine and then it just clicked.
I'm fucking bisexual. Shit.
There.
I said it.
I've been playing a game of hide and seek all my life. Hiding myself because acceptance is too idealistic and unattainable
I'm an actress, fucking Oscar nominee for the straightest role possible that not even my family have a clue.
I'm so far in the closet that I don't even see that gap where the light shines through because it's blocked by the tiresome years of mistreatment but I know I'm due for some therapy for my bereavement. I'm letting the greyness die to make way for the colour.
Blue.
Purple.
Pink.
That's who I am.
I'm gay. And that's it.