se•cret adj. not known or seen or not meant to be known or seen by others; not expressed; inward: my secret thoughts. n. something that is kept or meant to be kept unknown or unseen by others.
We keep secrets for many different reasons. Some things we keep private to protect others—or even ourselves. Some things we keep private because it is just not the right time for that certain piece of information to be revealed. Whatever the reason, secrets serve many purposes. They protect and destroy. Simply knowing something that others do not gives us the upper hand. Some secrets are slow-release capsules that become known and take effect over time. Some are ticking time bombs too toxic to be kept hidden for long. To me, the best secrets of all are the ones that are ever-present, but never come to light. The secrets we carry speak volumes about the kind of people we are now and become later.
I write these stories in a humble search to try to understand why we keep secrets. Why are secrets good? Why are they bad? What makes them so fascinating? Why do we feel more part of a group when we learn one, and why do we feel left out when we sense a mystery is afoot?
Isn’t it interesting that the things we want to keep hidden are the very things that others want to know the most about us? I know that I should not ask you—social etiquette dictates that I simply don’t go there—but as a student of the human experience, I have an inner hunger to ask. What secrets do you keep? Do you think your secrets will ever come out? Why do you keep secrets, dear Reader?
Here I lay my secrets before you. Here are my musings tucked away in subtle twitches and ambiguous words. I will try my best to encrypt and obscure them from your sight because where is the fun of discovering a secret without the thrill of the chase? Can you find them? Help me, dear Reader, because through your eyes, we can both understand the secret more completely.