It’s on the job description of every friends to keep secrets. They do have the uncouth privilege to taunt you with it every time they see an opening, take it as a payment for keeping the skeletons. But even with the strongest bond of friendship, you still have that one secret you can’t admit to them. And it goes way beyond the weight of wetting your bed when you were five, or getting a boner in church. They became strangers.
Coincidentally, it is much easier to tell and pour all of our deepest dark secrets to a nameless face, a stuffed toy or dirty laundry. Anonymity becomes our trusted friend.
You can be one of the thousand faces with the fleeting problem of binge eating. You can’t be distinguish with the myriad of people who thinks Pikachu is a yellow rat. They won’t take it against you. A clear and non-bias judgment is a rare luxury few can afford with their standing friendship. Confessing to a stranger, with no prior knowledge to your personal background will give you the pseudo satisfaction of having your guilt removed from the tapestry of your personal wall. Becoming one with the populace ridden with an affliction, with secrets and shame.
The joy of not being ousted and pinpointed with the fingers you’ve touched and connected with. The solace you can only get from the eyes of a stranger.
Picking up on the drama that the said friends will not take your baggage the way you’d think, is really the heart of all this ordeal. Getting out of their presumed idea of who you really are is a sticky and painful band aid to rip off. Letting the scab be seen, the ugly, hideous scab.
The standards that they stick on you is hard to maintain. Then you’d start questioning. Would they leave you behind and parade your shame, or would they absolve your worries. It comes down to how really close you are to the person, to what degree you’d not want to change the way they interact with you and see you as you are. Without seeing the dark background casted on the back.
Rejection from a stranger would sting, yes, but not as much with your friends. It comes close to be traded off with your shame and be rejected as an invalid human. Fear of being alone? Being unworthy? Being unloved? Questions that answers why tell a stranger your secret rather than a close friend. Or is it the warped idea of your friend the one to be questioned?