September 26: Great Big Secret, Online Pornography, Scoring Some Crystal

He looked so peculiar that several people commented on it solicitously when the song was done.  They thought he might have been having a heart attack, and Billy seemed to confirm this by going to a chair and sitting down haggardly.

There was silence.  

"Oh, my God," said Valencia, leaning over him.  "Billy--are you all right?"

"Yes."

"You look awful."

"Really--I'm O. K."  And he was, too, except that he could find no explanation for why the song had affected him so grotesquely.  He had supposed for years that he had no secrets from himself.  Here was proof that he had a great big secret somewhere inside, and he could not imagine what it was.

I have very little time tonight for reflection on this passage.  I'm typing fast, thinking fast.  I will not go back and proofread what I have written.  What you see is what you get tonight.

Unlike Billy, I am a person of very few secrets.  Pretty much, if you read my blog posts or poems or essays, you will probably find out everything there is to know about me.  Certainly, I don't hide the fact that I have had problems with online pornography in the past.  I talk about my wife's mental illness and sexual addiction.  If I were a meth head, I'd probably be writing about going out and scoring some crystal tonight.  (Yes, I have been watching too much Breaking Bad recently.)

I don't like secrets.  Secrets are things that encourage shame.  I was born and raised Catholic.  I have plenty of experience with shame and self-loathing.  Yes, there are good secrets (surprise parties, anniversary presents, family vacations).  But, for the most part, when I hear the word "secret," I think of extramarital affairs and cocaine-filled weekends. 

Today, I am not harboring any secrets from you.  It is my son's birthday.  He is my idol, so strong and funny and independent.  When he grows up, I want to be just like him.  And, hopefully, I can always be a person that he can look up to.  I suppose the one secret that I have regarding my son is my fear that I will some day be a disappointment to him.  That I will go fall from whatever pedestal her puts me on, and I won't ever be able to climb back up.

Saint Marty is thankful today for truth and his son and typographical errors.