The Secret

While on the phone with a friend,
we talked for hours on end.
We talked about everything
and nothing.
I was lulled into a safe state,
but then I slipped and mentioned
something I never tell.
The one secret I have buried.
It popped into my head,
strong,
forceful,
invasive...
unwanted.
Like the actions that caused the memory to come into existence.
It all came pouring back.
Helpless,
immobile,
frozen.
The reason I can't stand to feel trapped,
unable to move,
confined spaces.
That was the first time it was allowed to register fully
what it really was.
The friend,
he inquired no further...
said nothing more.
So now I write to process this thing
that happened to me.
The thing I never face,
but that is now staring at me...
asking me how I could look away all this time.
And I don't have an answer.
Denial?
I hid.
Repression?
My brain protecting me.
From that thing
that happened to me.