I have a secret.

It's all mine, and I hug it closely to my chest.

I've only willingly shared it with two people. I've been asked about it by two other people, and I told them the truth.

I don't know why I don't share it more often.

That's not true, I do know why. I no longer worry so much about how my friends would react towards me, should they find out; but I do worry how they'd react overrall.

I can think of a few friends that might go after someone with torches and a pitchfork... even though I haven't had anything to do with this person in years.

Part of me wants to just lay it out here, and deal with the consequences that way. The other part of me is just too damn chickenshit. If I open myself up like that, I have nothing left that's private, that's just mine.

I don't regret being the way I am; it's my choice, I know. But this also means that there are little secrets I can give to other people that they can hold on to for me.

Anyhow... I envy some people how open they can be about the crap that's gone on in their lives. I tend to put it behind me as best I can, although I never forget it. Stupid things I've said, stupid things I've done, people I've hurt... I remember it all. Dammit.

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