You Can't Hide From Yourself Mga Nobela at Kwento

“Like always.” My chest tightened. "Like always," almost like it was our slogan. I was so tired of hearing those words: hide the mark, hide yourself, hide every piece of you that people might hate. I would be doing that this time. “You know what?" “What?” “Let's not hide it this time. I mean, if I'm meeting my mate today. He should know me as me; if he doesn't want me, he can reject me. I'm not going to be the first person to be rejected.”

Maybe it’s okay to just be. "I’ve been scared," I admit, the words coming out before I can stop them. "Scared of disappointing everyone. Scared of letting go of the life I’ve known. But I don’t want to keep hiding, not anymore." Xander leans forward, his hand brushing mine. His touch sends a shiverdown my spine, but it’s a good kind of shiver. It’s the kind of feeling that tells me I’m not alone. "You don’t have to hide anymore," he says softly. "Not with me, you don’t have to be anything other than yourself."

To which he nodded once, “You won’t feel like a star because you’ve spent most part of your existence trying to hide what you are, it’s kind of like having amnesia, you’ve forgotten who you truly are and therefore have no idea how to be a star,” “So how am I meant to remember if I’ve always spent my life hiding from the truth of what I am?” “I don’t really know how to get you to remember who you are, I guess all I can do is tell you what I know about who you are and hope that eventually, something will spark your memories,”

“This isn’t a PR move. This isn’t for likes. This is for the kid who’s watching this at 2 a.m. with their hand over their mouth, wondering if they’re going to be okay. If they’ll still be loved after the truth.” I leaned closer. “You will. Even if it gets hard. Even if people leave. Even if you don’t have the right words yet. You’ll still be you. And that is enough.” I smiled, soft and small. “I don’t know what happens next. I’m scared as hell. But I’m not hiding anymore.” One last pause. “Be kind to each other. Be kind to yourself.” I pressed stop. And exhaled like I’d just come up from underwater.

" You have to learn to forgive yourself for the things you can't change. Out of ink.

Stay visible. Those two words burn me as much as the rain devouring my bones. Because I no longer know how to do that , be visible, exist, stand upright in another person's gaze without disappearing immediately into discomfort or shame. So I press myself against an anonymous porch, that of a grimy building with a cracked threshold, and I wait. Arms wrapped tightly around myself. Heart in my throat. My legs like two frozen stakes under these pajamas that weigh the weight of a shipwreck.

"I don't understand why I'm having these dreams more frequently. Plus, the hallucinations are getting out of hand now. I can't live like this anymore." "I think that all of this is happening because there are still secrets that you are hiding and denying. You can't escape your past Shyne, but you can learn to let go when you fully release those secrets that you've been hiding. You leave your old cage for a bigger one, but no matter how wide the space is, you're still in a cage. You need to be free from your own mind Shyne. Wait here. I'll get you a glass of water."

I just want to hug her. But you think of those things. You can't run away from your mind, from your own real self that you keep hiding. Your mind that only wants you to think and do the things that you really want to do. You are really greedy, you may not look like it, but you really do, you want to do things that are out of your control, and show them who you really are and yet you stop yourself from being greedy. And stop yourself from being obsessed. I blow out a loud breath, only to receive a message from Penguin, but this time the code name change into Turtle.

Lydia replied flatly. The silence pressed in. “I need to stay under the radar,” I said finally. “The stares are getting worse. The whispers are spreading faster than I can keep up with. I don’t know the rules well enough to defend myself.” “You cannot defend yourself,” she said immediately. “That is your first mistake.” Her bluntness stung. I suddenly felt like leaving, but I stayed. “Then what do I do?” “You disappear.” “I’m a dishwasher. How much more invisible can I get?”

“I’ll be back soon. And when I return, I expect you’ll have learned something.” I met his gaze, refusing to look away. “Learned what?” He gave a faint, almost pitying smile. “To stop hiding from yourself.” The door clicked shut behind him. And just like that, the room was silent again. I sank onto the edge of my bed, running a hand through my hair, my pulse still pounding. Stop hiding from yourself. He always had a way of saying things that stuck like splinters, even when I wanted to ignore them. I wasn’t hiding.