(no subject)
I kept the secret because I imagined it would make me noble, like some hero in a movie. How cinematic, backlit by the sunset, well earned scars on a face that would betray my strengths and mysterious nature, if not my hidden details.
But, secrets are only noble on the big screen because someone else is watching, privy to the personal sacrifices and dramatic back-story.
Nobody is watching. My face is not made distinguished and handsome by my silence. Real secrets are lonely, heavy, and haunting. They beg to be let out and shared, as dangerous as that might be.
But, secrets are only noble on the big screen because someone else is watching, privy to the personal sacrifices and dramatic back-story.
Nobody is watching. My face is not made distinguished and handsome by my silence. Real secrets are lonely, heavy, and haunting. They beg to be let out and shared, as dangerous as that might be.