The leaves are slowly swaying as the breeze touches them. The reflection of sunlight peeking through the trees reminds me of someone peeking through the pages of my journal. Though at the time is a window to my heart. I haven’t removed the curtain for anyone to see.

The words I’ve written are at present, only to be read by me.

You know my journal is an escape from the past or present which at times have been or are very rocky. Of course, not all of life is bad. There are trials and tribulations along with triumphs in everyone’s lives.

As I hear the leaves moving and shuffling from the breeze and as the sunlight continues to peek through, it reminds me of struggles in which I go through to just be me.

To look up and see the man made bridge and see the rays shine down on it, helps me to realize hope is never ending and everyone has choices. Whether we’ve made good ones or bad ones, it’s never too late to make another choice.

When I write about choices I’ve made or the results of choices of another that has reflected negatively on my life; I don’t feel its right for anyone else to read. It doesn’t mean that I don’t like you or that I love you any less, it is just a feeling for the moment or situation. Doesn’t everyone have a right to their own feelings? I most certainly think everyone does. As well as to privacy.Everyone deserves a little and trust is a major factor. The right to feelings is part of being human and I shouldn’t feel guilty for having them.

As I’m sitting here, I hear the birds chirping. It seriously appears as though they are having conversation. They’re probably wondering exactly what it is that I am doing here. It’s kind of funny in a way because maybe I’m invading their privacy.

To look up and to the right, I see broken limbs and dead trees, it is so sad to think those trees once stood so big and beautiful. To know the critters of the woods destroyed so many of them just as those who invade my space and destroy my trust and try to tear down my feelings even if just for a moment.

My hurts, pains, joys, sorrows, dreams and desires are part of what I write and when or if I want to voice it, I will. Until then I’ll continue to journal. All I ask is, “Would you please respect my privacy”?