secrets

i never told you my dirty secret. well, i never told you all of them. I seem to have a mounting heap.

once upon a time, my life consisted of only new hope. all my friends were here and and everything i knew. when i had a secret, it was something small and innocent. something that had to do with this world. i am a life long member of a club that consists of thin pretty white girls with highlighted hair and french manicured nails who have only the latest designer clothes. they have two parents, sometimes more, depending on the divorce status of their parents. but don't feel bad for them, this only means that they get two christmases. we are giggly and strange, and we know only the world of fences and bmw's and vacations to the bahamas.

now i have secrets. the things that occupy the space in my brain have little to do with new hope. it's as if i've already graduated from the club.

yes, i think about starving myself all the time. but i think a lot of us do, we just don't talk about it. we're all so busy trying to keep the secret that we're not actually happy with ourselves that we don't realize we're all the same.

but then there are some that cross the line. you cross step out of the gates and into the dirt and the grime of this world. suddenly you are covered in filth that even grapefruit scented anti-bacterial lotion can't get off. suddenly you are out of the club and you don't belong to the only group you've ever been a part of. you realize that the highlights have grown out and the manicure is chipped, your clothes are behind the trend. you're still walking around in this world of granite and polished wood, but they all look at you like you're soiling the hand-made rug.

if they saw the secrets, if they knew, i would be known for the line-crosser i am. i would be one of those girls who left and was never the same. then i'd have to get a nose piercing and a new vocabulary to fit in with a new crowd. the secrets would be come my new life, and the life i have now only a memory.