I've been in the position to listen to people tell me things they didn't want shared. Either with anyone, or outside a handful of people, essentially kept secret.

It's made me think about things I tell other people, and more importantly when I tell them.

You know the cliche of telling a bartender your life story? Or that stranger you just met, and that you'll most likely never see again? I have seen that happen, or been on the receiving end, though I've never done it myself.

Once in a great while, you find yourself opening up to those you really think you can trust. For me it takes ages. Literally years in some cases. I guess it's a defense mechanism, because it's harder to hurt you when someone doesn't know you. And they certainly can't betray that trust.

I'd say the people I really trust can be counted on my fingers. I'm not even sure if on both hands.

It's an odd feeling to me to actually want to open up to someone. Now that's something that's only happened about three times in my whole life. And even so, only to a certain point.

When a person feels they can tell me something special, I can understand, even envy, the braveness that it takes to open up, even if it's not the most personal thing in the world.

It makes me think about being careful to earn that trust, and maybe be able to share equally.