Who Has To Know

Who has to know
The way she feels inside
Those thoughts I can't deny
These sleeping dogs won't lie
And all I've tried to hide
It’s eating me apart
Trace this line back

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)....Dirty Little Secret, All American Rejects

We sit close, my hand around her waist. I tell her a story about L and a friend and the awkward meeting they had in front of their significant others. She is listening but not hearing, her mind in a chemically induced fog. I continued talking, creating a scenario to illicit a response I already know.

"Say I was window shopping in Rochester. With the Barista ..."

"Why would you be doing that?" She asks, interrupting my tale.

"It could happen. Besides, that's not the point. So we are walking along and you pop out of the billiard joint with that pack of hoodlums you live with. Bam, you are right in front of us. Would you acknowledge me?"

"I'd smack the Bitch down!" She says, with a giggle.

"Of course you would, god forbid I be happy. Now seriously, would you say hi to me? I'd be happy to see you no matter who I was with." I continue.

She sits silent. Stifling more giggles. My stare prodding her to answer.

"No I can't...I couldn't," she says, without looking me in the eye.

I let the question go. It's one of those things I know, but manage to overlook. Later she is stretched out on top of me, complaining about being tired and sore. Her bodies warm and I would gladly fall asleep this way. I have her sit in front of me. I run my hands over her soft shoulders and down her spin, working out the knots. She is all I want. I'm content--for the moment.

Nothing lasts. The harder I try to hold on, the more foolish I feel. I tend to give my all or nothing. I have trouble treading any middle ground. That doesn't leave much room for her to maneuver. The middle ground just leads to hurt and disappointment for me. These things she just blows off as part of life but I am getting older and I don't heal the same.

Lasts weeks horoscope read:

...You open yourself up to more shocks when you refuse to look honestly at what's in front of you. Opening your eyes is hard because as soon as you do the Pandora's Box that stores all your primary issues will explode. Part of you knows this. And the real question is, "Do you really want to know the truth?"

I should have heeded the advice. My friends keep silent, knowing. I can no long turn a blind eye. I've run back to them with my tail between my legs too many times. Now I'm asking myself, "What am I getting out of this? Is it real? Is it worth the cost?"

I don't want to know the truth. I have a hard time letting go, even when I am the only one holding tight. Adrift at sea, where letting go will not bring either of us to the surface, does it really matter?

Then I hear her ringtone coming from my phone.

I'll keep you my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret)