An Open Book’s nightmare: “don’t tell anyone”. This can also be phrased as “don’t let them know how self-indulgent I am”, “don’t make me accept the consequences of my actions”, and at its core, “break your moral code for me”. “Okay,” I’ll say “my affections for you are too misplaced and unconditional to deny you. I’ll be your scapegoat, and I’ll let my happiness be slowly strangled, all so YOU can feel better about yourself.” These are the words of a pushover.

Some might say that a pushover is the wrong word for myself. But it is true through and through, from the falling in all the way to carrying out his request of silence.
I know I am not entirely a victim in these situations, I too, am a perpetrator. I tempt and I receive, but I do not feel the complete burning of the consequences, he will. This is what pulls me toward a need to be quiet. This is what makes me feel like it is acceptable to allow him to commit his whims. However, over time I have learned that it’s okay to feel upset and to enact the habits of an Open Book.
I have lived in a constant place of anxiety and sadness for awhile now, an anxiety that is satisfied with human connection. I tried to satisfy it with friends, but for the most part, the only type of friend’s a socially awkward person like myself can make are with those who are drawn to me. They have a tendency to be guys who want a little more. So I give it to them. My body feels so hollow and neglected that I figure at least they could get some use of it. Maybe they can make the crying and anxiety attacks stop. I just want to feel okay for once.
Eventually I was able to make friends who find merit in who I am as person, and don’t just see me as an object. But even then there will be a falling in if you wait long enough or get too close. Their measly brains tend to get worn easily and its duties have to be replaced by another organ they seem to find it interchangeable with. This is where my history gets lived again, but at a more intense, fragile level. The friendship makes me feel closer to the person, making it easier to be intimate with him and to allow him to take me out of my mangled state of mind, but life being as manipulative and conniving as it is has to throw in some extenuating circumstances. These circumstances could be anything, varying from the law considering him too old for me to him being in a relationship, it’s irrelevant which one it is. What is relevant is what his situation means for us: we can’t tell anyone.
I value honesty beyond anything. I am an Open Book. But what am I to do when this person expects that he is able to use me and keep me as his dirty, little secret or guilty pleasure and continuously push me into things that he knows I can’t say no to, and on top of it, expect me to stay quiet about it. I’ve spent my time feeling guilty, feeling like all my worth is derived from my appeal to men, and like I owe them something. What’s ridiculous is if I slip up and tell someone, he’s angry, and he has to hold back from disowning me. I’ll end up having to cover it up with more lies. But this is my secret too. What happened between us is my story as well. It’s not my problem that you have a girlfriend and couldn't keep it in your pants. It’s not my problem that I’m too young for you. It’s not my problem that you shouldn’t be getting involved with me for whatever reason. This is my truth. I shouldn’t feel like I have to lock myself up and lie for you since you can’t get yourself together.
I suffer in the lies, but he suffers in the truth. What does that say about him?