Secrets Don't Make Friends

Today, February 19, has been a good day. I've been thinking about that a lot lately. For someone to know that they've had a good day they also have to have a bad day. So let's rewind to a bad day and find out why today makes my list of good days. How about one week ago? Thursday, February 12, was not a good day. To give you a better idea, last week wasn't good as a whole. You see, I had this secret that I had to keep from my roommate/best friend of 14 years. This was not just any secret. This was the mother of all secrets. This was the reason secrets were invented. This was the kind of secret that would haunt you in your dreams. It was THE secret, got it? I only had to keep THE secret until Valentine's Day, but I knew about it 16 days before that. I had this big, fat, shiny, diamond encrusted secret to keep for 16 days! See, her boyfriend told me-before anyone else, mind you- that he was going to propose to her on Valentine's Day on a carriage ride. Yea...that was the secret. She's waited four years for this, jeez I've waited four years for this! So, for 16 days I couldn't talk to my best friend, the girl I live with, eat with, watch t.v. with, study with, about this huge secret. I was having conversations with her about it in my head. "Hey, so your boyfriend bought you a huge gorgeous ring for Valentine's Day, and not the right hand kind." It was driving me crazy!!! I wasn't myself around anyone.

This one single secret was making me so anxious and irritable. All I wanted to do was tell her, talk about it, look at wedding magazines, and talk about what color bridesmaid dress I would be wearing. This secret was affecting me. So, Krystle is not a secret keeper. She's a lot of things: blonde, forgetful, loud, clumsy, honest, blunt, and the list goes on. But a secret keeper, she is not.
I kept the secret and I didn't die from it, and if I had told, her boyfriend would have strangled the life out of me, or -more realistically- never tell me a secret ever again. So, that secret should have been kept. However, I think that my struggle with keeping the secret from her just proves how close we are that I could hardly keep one secret for 16 days. Now she is wearing the diamond encrusted secret and we can talk about it and plan for it. There are no secrets, no imagining conversations, no avoiding certain topics, and that makes this a good day.

So, kids, the moral of this story is: Don't keep secrets, because secrets are meant to be told. Ha well, maybe not all of them.