Where My Secrets Are

There are different ways to keep secrets.

When I am secretly in love with a girl, I’d tell all her friends, and beg them never, not ever, to tell her.

When I am secretly hopeful, I’d go to an open field, and in the middle of it dig a hole with my hands. Then I’d whisper into the hole my secret hope, and carefully cover it with earth, twigs, leaves, and some tears. So when I am old and dying, I could come back and lean against the tree that had grown.

Otherwise, I try to forget, so they become dreams.

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