And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter-- they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long.
I have this thing about friends and secrets. Sometimes when I meet a person I like, I tell them a secret they don't know me well enough to be told. It lets me judge their potential as a friend.
Secrets make life more interesting. You can be in a crowded room with someone and touch them without touching, just with a look, because they know a part of you no one else knows. And whenever you're with them, the two of you are alone, because the you they see no one else can.