The Write Site

I used to have a secret. I kept it locked away in a hidden room at the back of my brain. It escaped. Or I should say, someone helped it escape. Someone I gave a key too, someone who I let into the room. She said she’d keep the secret too, she said she’d lock it away with her own and that, one day, she’d share hers with me. I thought, ‘then we’ll be equal.’ I thought, ‘then we’ll both have a reason to protect the other one.’ I said, ‘I love you.’

But then she let my secret out. She put it on display like a creature at the zoo. She used it to hide her own when she thought that people were getting too close to that hidden room at the back of her mind. And there’s nothing I can do. My secret is gone.