Secrets

I know a person who, no matter what has happened to others around them, they will tell you something they’ve lived through that’s just as bad, or worse.

I know a person who only listens as payment – it’s their way of making sure they get listened to. And their ratio of listening to talking about themselves is about 1:100.

I know a person who slept with their best friend’s partner many years ago and lied about it. To this day it’s a secret. I’m sympathetic to a point.

I know a person whose public persona is a complete 180 from their private.

I know a person whose idea of friendship is being part of her entourage.

I know a person who needs to believe that others think and feel the same way she does. The idea that they don’t sends her into an abyss of self-criticism.

I know a person that has to be the absolute authority on everything.

I know a person who likes to brag about the things they’ve stolen.

I know someone who is always the victim.

I know someone who is afraid to admit they are happy.

I know someone who says their partner just isn’t ready to let them go yet, so they wait for the inevitable heartbreak, all the while busting their ass trying to show that person how great they are, hoping the relationship will endure.

I know someone who has no idea how great their partner is, and doesn’t appreciate them, but feels entitled to their devotion. I want to hit them in the head with a 12-inch frying pan.

I know a person who laughs their ass off at the misfortunes of others who are not bad people – he just dislikes something about them, and that makes them fair game.

I know a person who despises weakness to the point that they respect no one who exhibits emotionality, forgiveness, or temperance.

I know someone who is in a long-term relationship with someone who knows how to give, but not how to love.

I know someone who will help strangers but not those close to them.

I know someone who thinks they have a lot of friends, but can’t get anyone to go to the movies or a museum or for a walk in the park with them, so they spend a great deal of time alone.

I know a person who cheated on the love of their life so many times they lost count.

I know a person who retained a bad relationship, because they knew their partner was obsessed with them, and they exploited their partner for the adoration and the sex for five years.

I know a lot of people who claim to love and have no idea what love is.

I know someone who barters loving gestures with the cold calculation of weighing stacks of coins.

I know someone who cares more about being in control than making their partner happy.

I know someone who survived Hurricane Katrina, and although I haven’t spoken to them in years, I could still feel their life force and knew they were ok.

I know someone who doesn’t care about me nearly as much as they insist they do. I know a few people like that.

I know a lot of people who simply aren’t capable of deep, committed love.

I know a lot of people who don’t want to be responsible for anything other than how their paycheck is spent.

I know a lot of people who claim to care about me but find it too much trouble to keep in touch with me.

I know a lot of people who live inside self-imposed walls.

I know someone who thinks I don’t care about them, and they are wrong.

I know someone who thinks I hate them, and they are wrong.

I know someone who thinks I will never be happy.

They are wrong.

I know someone who spends a great deal of time with no one except the person they live with, because their “friends” call all the shots.

I know someone who calls a lot of people “friend” when they are really acquaintances, and once they stop working together, or move to a different neighborhood, they will never see each other again, and the phone calls and emails will eventually cease.

I know the people in my life who read this blog, who are not bloggers, wonder if they are reading about themselves.

I know that if a person reads my blog and doesn’t find stories with a lot of humour, or about sex or people they know (or themselves), they’ll click somewhere else.

I know that the people I write about do not read my blog unless I email them a link to the specific post that mentions them and say “I posted something about you on the internet today.” Then they read just that post.

I know someone who thinks nobody really knows who she is.

I know someone who is amazed at the beauty she has discovered inside herself.

I know someone who wishes that would make people want to be with her.

I know someone who is lonely, but hides it behind a dazzling smile.