Dear Diary ... from Clare

Dear Diary,

My last encounter with Rene still bears heavy on my mind. I hope she doesn’t judge me for utilizing my God given skin and body to move up in the world. Isn’t that the American dream? Access to some kind of mobility? Aren’t I entitled to that, too? Anyway, I love jack and I know he loves me. That should be enough for anyone to condone me being with him. At this point, I’ve begun to adjust to this life in such a way that I don’t have any worries anymore. No need to fret about Clare, I guess. I just wish she would open up and look at the bigger picture for a bit and see where I’m coming from. Perhaps she could start benefitting from what God has given her instead of concealing it.

But then again, as I told her before, just maybe her way may be the wiser and infinitely happier one. I honestly don’t know. I know that I’m happy now and not fearful of the thought of getting found out. I simply don’t think it will happen. But I ask myself sometimes if I’m truly happy in the most natural way. It’s a bit of an insecurity of mine, I must admit. It shows and I can’t help it. And I know Rene sees right through it and that is probably what’s making her antsy around me. After all, I’ve changed since we were girls. We’ve both changed. She has matured into a woman of her race and I, on the other hand, have grown up with bigger and better plans. Maybe she’s jealous of the life I’ve acquired while she has become so invested in Negros that she can’t dig herself out.

But I do wonder … How nice it must be to give birth to your kids without fearing for the color of its skin, or worst, for your own life as a result of getting found out. How nice it must be not to live with a big secret in your heart. I thought of how comfortable I felt when Gertrude and Rene were sitting down for tea and how anxious I was when Jack came home. Again, I say I have no worries. In this own diary entry, I’ve contradicted myself! And again, I say, dear diary and dear Rene, I just don’t know…