I know a couple of things. I call them little truths.
These are the friends that fill the void, the never ending affirmations of who I am, and what I do.
They listen. When my words echo in the night, they always find comfort in the depths of my uncertainty.
I do not tell the world.
I do not show them these little truths.
“What are you working on?”
“Something,” and I leave it at that.
I learned to protect what I know to be fragile.
I learned to forge what the world sees not, into something that once seen, can never be forgotten.