you're reading...

Dirty Little Secret

You kept me close, so close, that no one knew who I was.

I didn’t think it strange at first. In fact, I liked it, I liked that we had this quiet relationship: it was you and me against the world. We had “our” weekends holed up in your apartment or in the park or in a dive bar where the bartender poured us our shots before we even finished doffing our coats. We had “our” little bistro tucked away in a part of the neighborhood that our friends didn’t even know about let alone would go to if they did.

“Our” shared language, tics and tacs, noughts and crosses, a step-step to the flow of words and jokes between us that when observed by an unknowing other spoke of the intimacy and familiarity of lovers, of sisters, of soulmates, or some heady, possibly disturbing, combination of the three.

That was all fine; I was okay with it until one day I wasn’t and it wasn’t fine. It hit me, bricks shattering from parapets on concrete sidewalk, crystalline glass on porcelain tile, that I was your secret, your dirty secret, and you were using me as your security blanket, your comfort, your protection, hoarding my time, my love, my affection and attention, until the time when you didn’t need it anymore.

And you would discard me. (You did). And I would be left yearning. (I was). And there would be no one for me to tell who would believe. (There isn’t). And I would have to close this gaping wound in my chest, I would have to suture and glue and hold shut the trench you tore through my soul when you left. (I am, slowly, and you never looked back at the scene of the crime).

Secrets, they hurt when you’re not careful and you become one, but they hurt most of all when you find that you were the one keeping the secret.


About Quinn

In it but not of it. A reformed player, now watcher. Speaker of raw truths.


3 thoughts on “Dirty Little Secret

  1. Reblogged this on .

    Posted by offtheraces26 | 2 April 2013, 1551 EDT
  2. You write incredibly well!

    Posted by malinamalie | 13 April 2013, 1624 EDT

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Raison d’etre

"Raw," she said. "I want something primal. I want something bare and naked. I want you to give me this life raw, unbidden, unhidden, free, fair, and true. Can you do that? Can you do that for me?"

One may only try.

April 2013
« Mar   May »


Enter your email address if you would like to hear words that are worth it.

Join 302 other followers

Follow "Raw" She Said on WordPress.com
%d bloggers like this: