"So, I guess you've heard by now about the whole thing. How I'm actually an alien and I'm actually from the planet Illucia and I only came to Earth to collect the Power Stones to give my planet energy for the next thousand years. And I'm totally sorry I didn't say anything earlier, but, you know, it was just all awkward with me collecting the Power Stones and all. But I'm glad it's out in the open now. So are we cool?"
Where I'm from the birds sing a pretty song and sometimes my arms bend all the way back. Regardless, I feel like the worst part about keeping a secret is the conversation in which you have to explain the secret.
And you say it.
And you watch.
And you see the person you've just revealed something to go through all the stages of just-having-learned-a-secret: surprise, shock, anger, confusion, curiousity and eventually boredom, at which point you move onto talking shit about your friends again.
I hate it.
I appreciate that people need to unload secrets — believe me, I know — but that requisite period where the secret-revealer has to explain themselves and follow up with the whole "So do you have any questions?" is a pain. I just guess it's a necessary one that people have been going through ever since they started keeping secrets, which I would guess happened about five seconds after they learned to speak.
Everyone is more interesting than you'd expect, it's true. I don't even know what would surprise me anymore. I'd just wonder if I can safely assume that we've all unloaded our skeletons and our closets are now safe for the storage of clothes and suitcases?
"So are we cool?"
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