Sometimes, even when you finally start telling the truth, it doesn't make things better. The truth is a hard concept. I've always prided myself in telling it, although with tact. However, I've held a lot in the past couple of weeks, and after doing that, I tend to explode. The truth comes out of me like a volcano erupting. It spews, and it doesn't spew gracefully.
Although there is a bit of me that feels good that I'm not acting like everything is peachy, a part of me feels bad for the glimmer of truth that was revealed.