Novel & Cerita You Can't Hide From Yourself

“Your heart will be stripped bare before the Moon.” I swallowed. My throat was tight. My heart raced, not from fear, but from the weight of knowing I couldn’t hide anything here. I couldn't hide from them. I couldn't hide from the Moon, and I couldn't hide from myself either. It felt like I was naked in front of every eye that was watching me, and that made me more uncomfortable than I thought I would be. Everyone expected me to do something even though I never wanted to be part of this in the first place.

“I’m not talking about the song and dance you put on for the rest of the world, Madonna. I’m talking about the inside, the part you hide from everyone else.” “What makes you think I’m hiding?” She struggles to hold eye contact, and slow blinks give her the reprieve she needs. Her lips part as frustration creeps in, and she pulls away, only stopped by the closed door behind her. “I’m not hiding.” I lower my arm, straightening my back. “Okay, you keep telling yourself that lie, and you might start believing it.” I’m poked in the chest before I can stop her, and then she pokes me again. “You don’t know me any more than I know you.” She turns away, tugging open the heavy door. “I don’t know why

But there’s nothing she can do about it. Holding back who you are will eat you up inside. Lying to yourself will not hide the fact that the person you were trying to become is not you and will never be you. And Jade is the epitome of that.

“Because you’re being mean.” My eyebrows pull together. “To who?” “Yourself.” I roll my eyes. “Here we go.” “No, seriously.” She points at me again. “You talk about yourself like you’re some kind of walking disaster.” “I’m realistic.” “No.” She shakes her head. “You’re scared.” The words hit harder than they should. Because she’s right. I hate that she’s right. I’ve spent years convincing myself that staying invisible is a choice. That it makes me smart. That it protects me.

Ashley looked up at him. She pursed her lips and there was a lump in her throat. At this moment, Ashley recalled herself when she was young. At that time, she tried her best to hide all my thoughts, approached cautiously out of control, and told the sweet and sour secret that no one dared to say. Once a person cried hysterically, hid all the memories in the box, crossed out the dreams that were thought to be impossible as if they did not exist. Also once hypnotized to herself, choking and repeating, "I won't like you anymore."

- HAZEL - Nothing seems interesting. Each day, I’m getting closer and closer to losing my mind yet I’m trying to get my act together. No one really talks about how overwhelming it is to have to hide a part of you you’d love to talk about so much. How miserable keeping to yourself actually is. It’s saddening, hoping someone would be your shoulder to lean on but realising you’re all alone in this, having to fight it yourself.

"Also normal. The messed up that looks extraordinary because it's visible. Everyone's messed up. Most people just hide it better." "Is that better? Hiding it?" "I don't know." Maya shrugged, the gesture that was also philosophy, also boundary. "I hide mine. The debate, the argument, the controlled violence—" She stopped, laughed, breathless. "It's all hiding. The real stuff, the need, the wanting, the—" She stopped, found the honesty. "The fear that I'm not enough, that I'll never be enough, that the voice I found is just performance, just escape, just—"

It's very clear how desperate I am. "And I'm saying that you don't need any addiction to deal with another problem" she insists. “Admit it, Suzy. Say out loud what you're hiding. Take the risk that people close to you may stop believing in the image you have pretended to have over the years. Free yourself from your ghosts, and they will never be able to haunt you again.”

After chewing a bite of my burger, I choose my words carefully. “No, I don’t. I believe everyone has layers they hide from the outside world.” “Precisely. Just like how we’re both hiding how much we enjoyed that thrill and everything that happened after.” “Dylan…” “It’s a layer that you refuse to acknowledge because you’re ashamed of it.” “You’re…not?” “No. It’s who I am and there’s nothing to change about it.” “But you’re hiding it, too.” “Not because I’m ashamed.” “Then why?”

It doesn't mean I don't get scared. It doesn't mean I don't need someone to talk to. The problem is that I have no one. There is no one I can sit beside and tell everything that has been weighing heavily on my mind. There is no one I can look at and say, I'm tired. I'm scared. I don't know what to do. A Luna must not show weakness. That is what I have always been taught. So I have learned to hide everything. I hide my fear. I hide my sadness.