I am the keeper of secrets. The one who watches as his dreams pass by and those who dreamed of him fade away. I am the one who desperately searches for any shard of normality to hold onto. Some secrets I have kept for years knowing that if they were to ever escape the consequences would be beyond severe. I know the limits and I know the expenses that must be paid. I have seen the terror in the eyes of the beholder and I have felt the pain that comes with every broken promise. I am the keeper of the secrets who silently whisks away the light of day to flee where no one will pry too deep and where I can hold my weights in serenity, focusing on how heavy it all is. However, the hardest secrets are the ones that have been with me the longest. Some secrets have clung to me since birth and hid deep down knowing even from an early age that if they were to be spoken the results would mean havoc. Sometimes it feels as though my whole life is a secret, kept fervently, knowing that the release would mean my exile from home and the loss of what few people I can call friends. However, I am the keeper of secrets. It is my job to remain stoic in the face of the greatest trials and allow no man nor woman to break down the walls in which I house my deepest collections. This is the life of the keeper of the secrets. I am utterly alone as I trudge through each day, but no one can know, so I smile wide and play the part so no one sees me falling apart. My strength is fading from heartache and time, but the hardest weights to carry are mine.