My Secret Is That I Have A Secret

If I told you, what would you think of me? Would you call me a pervert or disgusting? Would you tell me I needed serious help? Would you say that you know exactly what I am talking about? Maybe you would tell me I was normal. Maybe you would tell me that sometimes you do that too. Or maybe you wouldn’t. 

This thing I hold onto is dark. It won’t hurt anyone but me. It doesn’t see the light. Ever. It’s just in my head. It just festers there. It makes me feel good, then it makes me feel very bad. Without it, some things would be impossible, or I think they would be, because it’s been there since my memory began. 

What little memory I have of times before recent, I hold onto tightly. I don’t know where the other times are. There must be other times. I can’t remember when my secret started. I can’t remember the first time it made me feel good, then it made me feel bad. I can only remember that it has been forever. I can only remember it being inside of me. 

Today I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone. Today I will bottle it up again for another day. Today I don’t have the courage to tell. I have tried. Only bits come out here and pieces come out there. But the real stuff is stuck behind my teeth, on the roof of my mouth, like peanut butter. I push it forward and out with my tongue, but only a little comes. 

Eventually I give up trying to tell someone. I am ashamed. I am bad. I am afraid. I don’t want you to think less of me. I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. I don’t want you to look at me with disgust hidden in your eyes. I want you to love me like you always have, oblivious to my darkness and shame and fear and secret. 

I can imagine once it is out, it won’t be a big deal. I can imagine that you will understand. I can imagine that you will empathize. I can imagine a day that I am free of it. But I still can’t tell you. My mouth opens to tell you, then I pretend to yawn. My brain says go ahead, it will only bring you closer, not having any secrets between you. 

Don’t try to guess. The answer is no to all you are thinking. This thing, this secret, is dark. And nobody should know it. Not even me. If I tell you, will it leave me alone?