Secrets

Recently, more so than ever before in my life, I’ve begun to realize that no one ever really shows their true selves to others. We pick and choose various pieces of our whole selves to share. These pieces aren’t consistent, and we rely on trust to keep parts that we reveal to one away from another’s knowledge.
People who study human communication call this “openness” and “closedness”, simple and explanatory titles. They recognize that total openness would simply be intolerable. For example, most people would never tell their grandmother that they had a one night stand, but some would gloat about it to their friends. A person might never tell another that they cheated on a test, but most would report to everyone they know that they did well on it.
In my younger years, I would come home from school and my parents would ask me questions about how my day went, what I learned, how my grades were. Usually answering these questions with something cold and short, I would head straight to my room to call a friend who went to a different school. We would talk for hours about school. Why I couldn’t tell my parents the same, I don’t know.
I believe that most people rely on a combination of secrecy and limited communication between their various groups of friends/family to restrict the spreading of the pieces of their lives. In most situations, you can be sure that your friends are not going to be talking to your grandmother anytime soon; if they do see your grandmother, you rely on them not to talk about that one night stand.
In high school, I had classes with a girl whose mother worked with mine as a nurse practitioner. Kelli and I were merely acquaintances through our maternal influences. From her, all I ever heard about was the cute older guy she was dating, the awesome party she got drunk at, or how she took her dad’s car without asking. What I heard from my mother, through Kelli’s mother, was that Kelli was buying drugs from her older boyfriend, got a DUI leaving a big party, and got arrested for stealing her dad’s car after he reported it missing, not knowing who had taken it. Later, she dropped out of school, and I found out from my mother that she was on house arrest for six months. I don’t think she ever counted on my hearing these things.
There are possible obstacles to keeping certain things away from certain eyes and ears. Everyone has that friend that they just can’t tell anything to for fear of everyone else finding out. You’re careful around this person. You don’t usually talk about your romantic life, and you never talk about other friends. You fear the words that come out of your own mouth around these people; the people you know will tell someone else. Being in an intimate relationship can put up some hurdles here too. It may be hard to tell someone you feel very close to that you just can’t talk about certain things. Once you become very close with an intimate, it may be hard to hide certain physical misfortunes and bad habits that you have been able to hide in the past.
To solve the problem, good friends learn not to pry on certain topics that they have discovered are sensitive. Sociologists call this segmentation. Providing a relationship with some autonomy can also help this problem.
I remember talking with friend several years ago, who is now very close to me, and she asked me why I had moved away from my parent’s home at such a young age. I laughed nervously. I looked down at the floor. She told me, “never mind, I really don’t need to know.” I didn’t tell her then, and she never asked again. Last summer, she and I took a road trip across the country together; I finally told her. She is still the only person who knows the real reasons.
Who can we really tell our lives to? And if we find that person, do we really want them to know everything?

Pinch

Narrowing her sight to just one eye, the child squashes people like tiny army ants between her fingers; and they don’t even notice that she’s watching. One of the ants, who was dressed in suitable black- not for a funeral, gazes at the girl. His brief case is swinging, it hits another man passing, he seems angry. She smites them both; that was satisfying. A woman passes, who looks like a lawyer but could pass for a carpenter ant, witnessing the child’s action, looks to be disturbed by it. What could the winged one, the disapproving one, the uptight one know about the innocent girl? She places her fingers around the woman; suddenly, she’s gone, the one who judged got what she deserved. Even if only in a dream-state, bringing justice to her world made the child feel like flying.

It Rocked My World

I remember thinking on a couple different occasions, “this guy must be the love of my life.” When we broke up, I seemed to KNOW that he was my “true love”. I thought that I would never be able to live without Tanner in my life. This event, however small in the scale of my life, has had the greatest affect on me and my chosen path.

Only three months later, I moved to Bellingham. Not far, but far enough that I was on my own. Plenty of people move away from their parents and families at age 18. I had succeeded in getting away from (and getting over) the first boy to break my heart; a hurdle I fought with myself over for quite a while.

I only knew three people. My best friend Clint, his roommate Tiffany, and the girl I was living with, Laura. It truly was a fresh start. I brand new chance to make my life into almost anything I wanted it to be. I took this beautiful opportunity and I drank myself into oblivion. Then I met Chris. Now, I had a brand new shot at life- that I was already fucking up- and a brand new relationship.

After a few weeks with Chris, I got the feeling that I actually liked him. This wasn’t just a fling like the four other guys I had dated after breaking up with Tanner. I began to feel happy. I thought that may be I didn’t have to drink to forget; I could talk about and actually resolve my worries and problems. I started to figure stuff out. I took more hours at work, and I told my roommate not to buy me anymore vodka. I forgave Tanner, and we became close friends again. I started talking to my parents more, letting them help me. Things were really going well. I was finally happy. This was something I hadn’t been able to say in nearly two years.

Friday, February 29, 2008- a day that only exists once every four years. And it was on that “fake” day that I woke up to a screaming and crying best friend. Clint didn’t want to, couldn’t, tell me over the phone. He said I had to come get him. I got off the phone and got out of bed. I calmly told Chris I would be back in a little while; that Clint was having some dramatic, life-altering moment again and I had to go hold him while he cried.

It wasn’t as simple as that. It’s a funny thing when it happens to someone you know. I think especially someone that you know really well- someone that you love. It seems surreal. Almost like it’s not actually happening. Tears form in your eyes, but you don’t understand why until much later. You forget what time it is, what day, where you are, and even standard traffic rules. You can’t think of anything but, “why?” I wondered why anyone would hurt him, Tanner. The most caring, gentlest person, stabbed to death in his own home.

I don’t remember much from the next few weeks except the reoccurring thought that I would never see him again. Wondering who would do this, and why him, why Tanner? The first of my close friends to die, and he was brutally murdered? It couldn’t be real, it just couldn’t be.

But it was real. I went home to go to the funeral. I saw him, touched him. His skin cold, pale, firm. Cuts on his head were covered by a bandana. Cuts on his hands were just out there to see, at least he defended himself. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t going to smile at me. It was over for him.

I went home, Chris comforted me. Once again, I thought I would never be happy. A string of other friends died after that. A couple in drunken driving accidents, one jumped off a bridge. Those people didn’t fare so well. But somehow, I came out of all of this okay.

I dream of Tanner sometimes, and it makes me happy now. I understand that life is not infinite and it should be treasured. You should do what you need to do to be content- no matter what. It can really be over at any minute, and you never know.