I Love Being Trusted As A Secret Keeper. Like Come Dear, Shed All Your Secrets In Me, And I Am So Good

I love being trusted as a secret keeper. Like come dear, shed all your secrets in me, and I am so good at it, that I shall forget that myself or atleast pretend to forget for the sake of your security. I shall not talk about it again, even to you, so your forget you even shared it with me. And I shall go down in my grave, proud that I kept my words of keeping it a secret.

I am baffled by the uncertainty of the next moment. It wouldn't be a big deal if right now I am sitting in a comfortable blanket, all warm and happy and the next moment, the world comes crashing down upon me. In the worst way possible.

I might be enjoying my most favourite song on the radio, and the next moment my heart may give up. In a literal way.

I might be thanking God, at this particular moment, of all I have, and the next moment I receive a call of a loved one gone.

I might be walking down the meadow breathing fresh air, and next moment my leg may slip, breaking me(and my leg) in the worst way possible.

I might be eating my favourite food right now, and the next moment, I may choke to death, when some particle constricts my trachea.

Such uncertainty in life and still I have such big plans, and continue to make some everyday. This uncertainty clouds my mind in the worst way possible. And probably this was the reason of Antonio's melancholy as well as mine.

On the contrary, I can't hide things about me, in me. I have to have someone to share it all. Be it a person, or papers. I trust papers to not leak or tell my secrets to anybody, and I try to trust people to do the same. Time tells me who succeeds, but it is beautiful to bare myself all before someone and not be worried that I caused a mess. Like even if it all spilled, like pages, they would collect it all and keep it the deepest drawers of the library, situated in their hearts.

At some instances, the world just stops for us. We are frozen. Either from excessive glee or from mind numbing pain. But it does.

Well, there is the point. We may be frozen for some instances but the earth still turns, and moments still walk past us like unbothered passersby.

Like oh Earth! Just stop with me. Let us together make this moment eternal. Let us be stilled for a few moments, look at each other, share the happy or sad, and then restart like nothing ever happened. Like a friend. Not the way you do. The passerby ways.

There's a popular moral trend of selflessly doing for them, without questions or expectations. But it ain't practical to let them exhaust your resourcefulness till you turn into an empty pot, till they diminish all light within you, till they pull you out of your own alignments. So much that, you stop looking at your own worth and feel proud of how giving and loving you are.

What do you want to send yourself? The cheesy message of being the oh-so-perceived light of the world, or the strong message that your settlement demands same in return. That if you are kind enough to give, you must be alert enough to not give all of you.

Do not create a bridge between two cliffs, and break it later on, so no one can cross it. Someone might be stuck in the middle of it, with no chance to save their life.