Secret, Secret, Lie

I'm thinking I need a little something to spice up this blog every day thing, so starting Monday, I am going to launch Secret, Secret, Lie. Every day for a week, I will create and post some sort of Post Secret type postcard that will either divulge a real secret of mine or a baldfaced lie. I leave it for you to guess which ones are which and I'll reveal the real answers the next day. Or maybe at the end of the week. I haven't decided.

I am taking a bold step here because, what the hell postcards do I have? None. Also, I'm not entirely certain I have any good secrets. (I always have good lies!) I want to emphasize that these will be Post Secret in style ; I can tell you right now I don't have anything I wished I'd said to that priest and I'm not suicidal. And because I won't have any anonymity, they will probably be of the tamer variety. Did I mention we're moving tomorrow? To a house that doesn't have internet set up yet? Or, like, a scanner? Secret: I LIKE TO TORTURE MYSELF.

Moving around some drawers yesterday morning to retrieve a pair of shorts that had become lodged, I came across an old letter. The room was dark and I couldn't make out the writing. I could see a couple phrases: "haven't slept," "letter you wrote," "thinking about." I love that moment before you are able to tell what something like that is, because the possibilities are endless. Was it an old love letter? From whom? Was there drama? I took it into the light and realized it was written to me by a guy I really screwed over in college. The letter was from pre-me-screwing-up time and was very sweet. The phrases I saw in the dim light were really quite innocuous, talking about staying up late to finish a term paper and how the changing seasons make you think differently. I would tell you about the screwing over part, but I'm still hideously embarrassed about it.

Seeing the note was nice, though. I used to write much more letters than I do now. I blame blogs and email and cell phones. I've stayed in touch more with random strangers than close friends of mine that live minutes or hours away.