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Are secrets really secrets?  How long can a secret remain a secret?  Doesn’t everything come to light at some point?



Long before I knew my mind, you took away my right to know my mind, and in so doing took the very essence of me, that part of me which struggles now to know who I am; the real me.  You came and with your honeyed words drew me into a maelstrom of deceit.  I felt confused, but could not fight you because you were bigger than me in every sense of the word.  Physically, you were bigger.  Mentally you were bigger.  Emotionally you were bigger.  You were simply too big for me and I was too small.  What did you see that day you came to me, smiling, with evil in your heart, evil on your mind, evil guiding your hands?

You believed your secret was safe with me.  But you could not be more wrong.  Oh how you gloried in your misdeeds and how you luxuriated in the wrongs of someone with a secret.  You laughed mockingly at the small soul who kept your secret safe within her heart, never fearing that she could one day part with the sorrow that secret held for her.  That secret which tore her dreams to shreds, prevented the seeds of miracles to unfold.  The secret which stopped her from being bold and taking hold of all that was rightfully hers.

Ah but time has passed and with that passing has come the desire to cast aside the mire in which she passed her time, for she could not call it living.  It was a poor substitute.  The secret explodes and each dirty shard is tossed into the air, it is there for all to see.  You seek to deny it, you question the reliability and demand evidence to support the claim. Surely you are not the one to blame?

Your secret was not safe with me.