50 Shades of Pink

A slip of the tongue. That's all it was. And yet, what a devastating mistake it was. As if writing an essay and scribbling down some overheard random words, the wrong name fell out, replacing my dear friend and revealing my secret. His face froze and I gasped as the realization crossed over my accidental audience's faces. They laughed and he started talking faster and faster as I spiraled into a panicked and embarrassed state of hyperventilation. One said I was blushing so badly, and I knew there was no way I could deny it this time.

They gave me their promises of secrecy, but I am scared, regardless. This is getting bigger than I would've liked, and that makes it feel all the more legitimate and fake. I want to give up, but all these people are giving me coy smiles and jumpy squeals of joy and assurances of false hope. I feel like any disappointments that may come about are now not only mine, but theirs as well.

However, I am glad to have these people in my life. How grateful I am that these few who witnessed my great mistake are people I can trust, albeit with the price of their laughter and teasing remarks. It really was hilarious, something straight out of a tv show or a psychiatric session with Freud.

I have blushed twice as much in the past two days than in all the years before. Maybe this is okay. Maybe I need some more color in my life. Maybe I should welcome the reds and pinks and greens. Maybe I should go out on a limb and accept the possibility of some blacks and blues.

Maybe I should stop pretending my life is something cheesy like a canvas or a romcom and just man up.

Maybe I just like him.