We all have a secret.

 Whether you're aware of this yet or not, my dear friend, you have a dirty little secret. Great. Now there's an All American Rejects song stuck in my head. Oh well.

 You may be thinking to yourself currently, "I have no secrets. I am not ashamed. Who's to say I have secrets? Certainly not YOU, Person I Don't Know.

Well, ya do.

 Admit it, there's got to be something that you hide from someone. It doesn't have to be embarrassing or illegal, just a little thought that you wouldn't like your friend or mother or gerbil or librarian or coworker to know about.

An unknown desire or memory.

For all we know, every bodybuilder may have something in their heads that wants to be a dentist.

Or every plumber dreams to be a fashion designer.

Or every cat wishes to be a dog, and vice versa.

I'm not gonna be hypocritical here, at first, I thought I didn't. Then I realized: My life is practically secret.

I mean, what else can a shy person be but a victim of invisible duct tape to the mouth? Seriously, nobody's THAT boring, really having not a word to say. Inside every shy boy lies a lion's roar, and inside every timid girl lies the ferocity of a tiger. 

 In a way, shyness itself marks someone with a thousand tiny secrets. I see things in a different way than most people (well, all but one of the people I've ever met (possibly two)) and spend my days dreaming, while all you see is a closed mouth and faraway eyes. They don't know I write. Or draw. Or indulge in music. 

 Short, shy, scared, slow, cold, lonely girl = dreamer.

 Now, maybe you have a more blatant, torturous secret. An ankle-biter. One of those annoying nuisances that gnaws on your happiness day and night. I recently heard some of these regarding a friend. I can only wonder how they feel about these, for it was another friend that told me, but I can only imagine what great sorrows were born from them. There's a certain degree of pain that you can only know by experience. You soon find out, you don't want to know this pain. Alas, sooner or later, we all do.

 Being very honest here, I really just wished I weren't alive once. The Nothing, I'll call it, had swallowed me up and it's usually a little while until you escape. The circumstances had become sharp and I really just didn't want to do it anymore. Notice I did not say I wished to be dead. I did not wish to die. Never could I even fathom...

You know,  suicide.

Man, that hurt to type. 

 But I never considered that. I'd never be able to. I'm too weak. It could never even become a possibility.

Which, I guess is good and bad. I'm weak, but just weak enough to hold on.

You have a secret. But it's time to let go. Let go and hold on. Be still, and move on.