I know his secret.

He’s beautiful, but I don’t tell him that. You see, he has a secret and I know it now. I can’t let on that I know, because it’s his secret and his alone to hold onto or to tell the world. I just get to be one of the few that holds onto his secret, just as I hold onto my own secrets and the secrets of others. In many ways, his secret is that he is the same as me, that although we have so much in common, we would have more in common if we could talk about that secret. What would happen if we could depend on one another?