Secret Garden

Sandra Dee and I often go sailing in the sun, and we would often share secrets, deepest darkest ones. But of late, I cannot come, for it has been stormy, so very stormy, and Sandra Dee and I have to wrap ourselves tightly around those secrets we never dared share, with anyone.

It is our secrets that pull us apart, she often told me. I never knew what she meant until I started collating my own set of secrets. I used to love secrets, she hated them. Not that she often wanted to be transparent to all, and shared every part of her to every one, she often lectured me about only sharing with the ones that will appreciate, but she often warned me, that a secret is often the stake that punctures a relationship. I guess it was my secrets, kept from her, that she hated. So she often dug, and she dug deep.

I don't think it is the secret that is the stake, but the inability, or the desire not to share it. It was that fateful Sunday, when I suddenly acquired a deep desire to maintain my perfection that I know her eyes see and I began fiercely protecting my reputation. Vanity I guess it was. Vanity rather than pride. And I began to bury my sins deep down, further than she could ever dig, and we enjoyed our time in the sun, while she shared her all, and I, I shared all that strengthened my reputation of being quite perfect.

The only problem is, with secrets, the ugly ones, they grow. Funny that, must be a rule of nature or something, because mine grew wings, and ugly fangs, and the more I kept them, the stronger its will became, to shoot up from that deep dark chest and show its ugly face. Yes, I have began to deplore, hate my dirty ugly secrets, and the worse part is, I have come to love Sandra Dee who only loves me, for what she could see. And so I often prayed it became stormy, and we went sailing, less and less.

She was right, secrets pull us apart. And my efforts in keeping secret after secret, has caused her to fade to the background behind them secrets I now protect with all my strength.  So every Sunday, I am left alone, just me and my deep dark secrets, and I grew lonely.

Sandra Dee, her heart so pure, she came up to look for me one stormy Sunday eve. Her fair hand came knocking at the door, and I, I, did not open it. But her pure heart and fair hand, never gave up, she came knocking, and knocking again. And one dark night, when I lost sight to loneliness, I opened my door, and there she saw, me and the dark ugly creature I kept deep inside, from her.

What she did next, I will never forget. She was such an angel, fair and bright. She lay me down, and put me to bed, and sang me a song, so haunting, I shan't forget. And she picked up a knife, and turned her fair face, and struck the looming dark secret, down and watched as its life drains from it. She coaxed me and told me, that it was okay, and that I was perfect, in her eyes, always, forever and a day.

And I am thankful to Sandra Dee, who set me free from my secret that overtook me. And to her, I will always stay, true and pure, forever and a day. The ugly sins, I held within, I killed each time I showed her, and if only I realised, long ago, it was not myself, but it was that, I would never be perfect, without her.