Poor Pretender

Befuddled. So very befuddled.

A man jumps on a table in the middle of a crowded room. He says, "My name is Jack Pretender and I am someone who has never committed to anything and its never bothered me." Everyone looks at him. Jack expects people to jump on a table and let the entire room know who they are, but no one does. So, Jack jumps off the table and walks up to a girl. "What is your name?" he asks her, everyones eyes are still on the two of them. "Jen." She responds. "Jen, who are you?" "I don't know." Jack asked several different people there names and "who they were." The people who didn't answer "I dont know" said things like "I'm a body builder" or "I'm a good person" or worst of all "I'm a mystery." After asking several people he started to cry. He walked out of the crowded room unsure if he'd ever return. It was that last answer that got to Jack. "I am a mystery." Had he not felt so defeated he would have asked the black haired, pale skinned girl, "What's so great about being a mystery?" Jack felt as though he had done the right thing. He wanted everyone to know who he was almost as badly as he wanted to know who everyone else was. Jack had decided that from now on he was pure and he would keep no more secrets. Except, what if he was wrong? What if the mystery girl had been right. What if people are meant to be hidden beneath this shroud of secrets. In spite of these thoughts, Jack couldn't help but think that secrets were just tall fences meant to keep the world out and he wanted so desperately to let the world in, only the world was not excepting the invitation.
Jack spent the rest of his life brooding over that day. Was he right or was he wrong?


I hate secrets. I want someone to be painfully honest with me. Will you be?