I have a secret…and I don’t want to tell it to anyone. It’s showing in my face, somehow. Friends and family in the middle of a sentence will break off and ask me, what are you thinking about? What? I just smile and murmur, Nothing.

It’s my own business, for now.

My life has been such an open book, I have never been able to keep my business to myself for too long. Part of it is I simply don’t care. Part of it is I have a big mouth. Part of it is I am not very discreet. Part of it is I love to confide, to share. Because sharing is caring, right?

Although I have no one in my family to share secrets with (if I tell one sister or brother or cousin I might as well have told them all) I do have friends I could trust to the grave. That I have trusted with painful confidences and they have told no one. But this secret, which is neither painful nor particularly something to be silent over, I don’t want to tell. This is the closest I have come.

It has become fully textured, in my mind. Soft and supple but hard, like an old wooden bench. I analyze it from every side, seeing it through the eyes of my friends, of my family. What would Alonda say? What would Amy R say? How about my folks, what would they say? What would Amy J say? What would Kwanza say? and Tonya, what would she say? Eric of course would give me the male view, so would Calvin and Michael. and Brian, what would my husband say? As if I have to wonder what he would say. As I imagine their reactions, I make myself smile. Because I am not a mind-reader, even where Brian is concerned. I don’t know what the reaction to my secret will be. Only when I tell them will I know.

Bu it’s my own business, for now.

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