Okay, so technically it’s not a word per se, but physically two words. I’ve looked at this one for awhile now, trying to rack my brain for something I could and would want to write about. Finally it came to me.
This is a terrible thing to do and I’ve agonized over it for a few days, but I think that it’s best if we parted ways. I’ve entrusted to you a lot of secrets along the way and you’ve been really great at keeping them. Unfortunately, I’ve just come to the realization that not even you can keep them safe.
Let me just say it’s not you; it’s the secrets. They just won’t act right. They refuse to stay true to their nature. Deep down inside every secret wants to become common knowledge. That’s why they’re so hard to keep. They find ways to evade their keepers: a slip of the tongue, a hint of sarcasm, death. They’re crafty buggers. Even you, with your lock and key are no match. Eventually, I’ll misplace the key or the lock will be broken and someone, rifling through my “secret” places, will discover you. The potential is great that everything you hold will be brought to light, and there is not a thing you and I can do to stop it.
So, yeah, I guess this is it. I can’t continue to give secrets the satisfaction of eluding my fevered attempts to keep them. If they want to surface, so be it. They’re going to get there eventually, right? You know, if you want I can always turn you into a planner.
P.S. See more stories on this topic at Sunday Scribblings.