The tempest of my thoughts, contained in a simple page.

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Dear King of Random Gestures,

I know you didn't want me to post about for your sake. But I'm going to do it anyway.

I hope you never see this. Because if you do, my most tantalizing secrets sealed within my cryptic titles would be jeopardized, and my facade of imagined mystery could crumble in mere moments. And that must not happen. Heavens no.

I'm already too vulnerable today.

This might not have been the case had it not been for Coree. That perfectly adorable, inquisitive child. She (thank goodness) had no idea what my cryptic-ness could mean, but she was determined to find out. Through incessant prodding and careful process of elimination, she unearthed my most treasured secret of this lowly page, and once she had, it was out there. In the open, where I felt anyone could just reach out and snatch it, only to shatter it on the proverbial floor. 

I couldn't believe it. If Coree could elbow past my seemingly immovable front that guarded this secret, who else might? Granted, Coree knows the tricks to squirm through my barriers. But it left me uncovered and shivering with cold and fear. Metaphorically. 

Then, like an idiot, I brought this up, and though I highly doubt you will follow through and pursue the reading of this page, I can't remove the question from my mind, and until I am certain, it will remain there like a festering splinter. 

So if you're reading this, I've already lost half the battle. 

Sincerely,
Abby

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