I am a keeper of secrets.
I am an onion full of paper layers, you could almost see through but not quite.
Every time I am wondering if I can really, truly do my job I shove that thought aside and get back to work, keeping the secret of how afraid I am that it’s too much, that I don’t have the energy for this, that the social demands my job places on me is too strenuous.
Every time my children talk about their excited plans for their birthday parties and summer road trip plans I stomp down the fear of costs, time, and how we will manage it all in favor of giving them lasting memories of a fun filled childhood. I keep it a secret.
Every time I think of the big party I have RSVP’d to attend in a couple of weeks I keep the secret of how much I really don’t want to go, that staying in with a cup of tea sounds so much better, but it means a lot to my friend so I will keep the secret and plaster a smile on my face.
Every time I want to shout from the rooftops how happy I am to have met Him I swallow it dry because very few people would understand and I don’t need that judgement in my life.
Every time I hear from Him or think of him I keep the secret of just how blissfully happy I am because it’s too soon. Too early for feelings and I don’t want to screw it up.
I need someone to brave the tears and peel my onion back, layer by layer until I am the keeper of secrets no more.
Until then, I come here.