Catch Me If You Can
You don’t know me. You think you do, but you don’t. And, no, I’m not saying this as I throw a z-snap in an oh-so-Ricki
Sometimes I think you do. But then I surprise you, and your surprise even takes me by surprise. And I realize that you don’t know me.
And I like it that way.
I am full of surprises. I am full of secrets. I am full of mystery.
Okay, maybe I’m not full of mystery, but it’s romantic to think of myself as mysterious. To picture you reading my words and saying to yourself, “I can’t figure her out. I think I have her pegged, but then she brings this to the table.” I adore imagining that I leave you wanting more.
It is my romantic version of myself. And we all need one of those. Just as you think you are about to get your hands on who I really am, just as you think you know all there is to know... I slip away into the mist that is my secrets. That which you don’t know.
Secrets are the spark of life. They are the fuel of the complex character. They are exhilarating and incendiary. They keep you moving, keep you on your toes, as you surreptitiously work to keep them under wraps or drive yourself to resolve them through revelation.
Gabriel Garcia Marquez’s book, Love in the Time of Cholera, is one of my favorites. A story of unrequited love, it is timeless and passionate and disturbing. The idea that someone could harbor an unreciprocated love for another, for a lifetime, is fascinating. It drove the story in an almost intoxicating manner. In the end, the only way that the love of these two characters could be realized was under secret. Flown under the flag of a feigned cholera epidemic.
Secrets can destroy lives. Secrets can give you reason to live.
My secrets are not as dramatic as that, despite my romantic notions. However, I like to think of them as just as provocative. I recently wrote my 100th post at Velveteen Mind, acknowledging the milestone with the obligatory 100 Things. I wrote it in a flash, trying to beat the clock before I had to pick up my son from school, publishing it without proofreading and without a second thought. Perhaps I should have thought about it for a second more, because I had surprises of my own waiting for me in my inbox when I returned to my computer.
Comments and emails came trickling in, mostly to the effect of, “I had no idea...” and “I can’t believe you posted that.” My own husband remarked, “Um, you were awfully, well, revealing in that post.”
It was both a thrill to be able to elicit surprise from friends that have known me for years and also a little unsettling that perhaps I had revealed too much. My point, however, was not to write another hum-drum 100 Things detailing my favorite colors and movies, but rather to write something worth reading through 100 lines.
Ultimately, I did not find it particularly controversial, myself, but maybe that is because I was comparing it to what I could reveal to you, but have not. Yet.
I am full of surprises. I am full of secrets. I am full of mystery. If you want more of me, come and touch me, grab my hand, take hold of my heart, my mind, my self... if you can hold me. If you can keep me. If you can catch me.
Megan reveals her secrets, one post at a time, at Velveteen Mind. She’s always up for a game of truth or dare, so throw yourself in the game and see what you can get her to let slip. Given the option, she would always prefer revealing a truth rather than, say, mooning her old lady neighbor.
2 comments:
"We all need a romantic version of ourselves." That is so true! Excellent post!
great post, Megan! i love your complexity, and the surprising facts. that makes for good blog fodder, don't you think?
Post a Comment