If you're one who can't keep secretive secrets a secret despite the countless "cross my heart, hope to die"s, and sacred pinky promises, then you know what it's like to be me. How enticing the thought of letting your brain scatter freely and carelessly onto another's occipital, cortical, what-have-you lobes just for a moment of self-centred, indulgent ecstacy that a lonesome heart relishes, craves, hungers for. As they always say: swooning takes two.
Phew. Fortunately, I am neither lonesome, nor self-centred.
Sometimes secrets remain as secrets because the one that bears the load wishes for it to be special and exclusive and dead to the world. and mine. all mine. So that none other shall have it, and none other shall be tempted to take it away and none other shall ever succeed in possessing it as I possess it now.
7 days to invest ): ): ): ):
No comments:
Post a Comment