It's heartbreaking; the realisation that you can't trust someone with your secrets, not because they don't love you, not because they intentionally want to hurt you, but because it's who they are. It's coded in their DNA to share everything. They can't help it. They can't comprehend that some things are intended for their ears only. All the telling, pleading, begging in the world wouldn't help.
They blurt out secrets and spill stories all over so all that's left is a mess. Then come misunderstandings and confusion. Then come the hurt and pain that comes with cleaning it up.
It's so frustrating.
I knew that you weren't great at secret-keeping, but I'd forget. You gave me so much of you and I wanted to return the favour. I'd give up little pieces here and there for you to keep, only to feel betrayed when I found them scattered everywhere. My treasures were flung around like they were nothing, freely distributed so they became common stones to be stepped on.
Feeling ugh,
Me