I used to write

I still do occasionally, but I've just not been publishing them. Things about actual feelings. Things that I hope I might look back on at some point and cringe/not remember why I felt that way/laugh at. But that hasn't happened so far. 

So I've got this teenage-style secret diary of angst and anguish. Not sure why I don't just delete them. Perhaps some day I want to show them to someone and say 'look this is how you made me feel, all that pain and all these sodding cliches'.