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A red-faced confession (a monolgue)

By Writingforlove

You want me to tell you a secret?

Something no-one else knows about me?

(thoughtfully) Ohh...

There's really only one thing that springs to mind and, of course, that's a secret for a reason.

It wasn't always that way. I used to mention it freely in conversation and there must have been a time when it was socially acceptable because no-one seemed to care when I was younger. Friends in the know would simply look at me and wide-eyed nod "Do it!" before moving on.

But as I got older, I noticed people's reactions started to change.

They'd all done it. And I hadn't.

It's not that I didn't want to, I'd just never had the chance.

"You're kidding" people would cry when I'd tell them, their heads jutting forward and jaws dropped in disbelief. "How is that even possible?"

I remember the last time I let the truth slip. We were out to dinner and it somehow came up. Unthinking, I admitted my position and immediately wished I hadn't. The whole table fell silent. I felt the blood race to my cheeks as every face, contorted with incredulity, swivelled to look at mine.

I had two choices:

One: Continue to slink out of my chair toward the beckoning sanctuary beneath the table, where I could hide in shame and self-loathing until dessert was finished and everyone left. Or

Two: LIE.

I went with option two.

"Gotch'ya," I chimed, a cheesy open-mouthed grin plastered to my face and a finger pointed comically at the accusing glares.

"Of course I have. Did you really think---? How could anyone get to my age and not? Can you imagine?"

They bought it. Or maybe not. But conversation turned elsewhere and the blood in my checks slowly ebbed.

I remember the debate that raged inside my head as I drove home that night.

"What's wrong with me? Surely I've had opportunities in the past, how could I have mised them? No. It's perfectly normal. There's probably thousands of other people who are just waiting for the right time. Oh I should just do it. Get it over and done with and put a stop to this silliness. Maybe a friend could help me out, explain things as we go along. Or I could just go and buy it."

My head got the better of me that night and in the end I went straight home to my cold, empty bed where I suffered torturous dreams.

Since then I've tactfully avoided the subject. Or, where I've had no other choice, made only vague conversational contributions like "Mmmm" and "Oh yeah..."

But I feel like it's probably time to come clean; like I can trust you; like you won't judge me.

You see the truth is -- I can't believe I'm telling you this -- the truth is, I've never seen Star Wars.


God it feels good to get that off my chest.


A red-faced confession (a monolgue)

Created: Jun 16, 2013

Tags: secret, script, secrets, vo, monologue, dialogue\, confession

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