I have a secret life. I can't speak of it in public. I can't mention it in polite society.
"Where were you last night?" they ask. "Somewhere", I say.
"I heard this funny story from…Someone." I pronounce.
"I need to leave early" I tell my boss. "I need to do..Something."
"We are learning about Rabbi __" my niece says.
"Ooh, I went out with his grandson" I almost blurt out. I bite my tongue.
"Why are you so busy?" they ask. "Why don't we ever see you anymore?"
"Well I am working," I say. "And studying."
"And dating!" I want to yell. ""Hours upon hours of dates. Huge portions of my week, my time, my energy."
But I don't. Dozens of boys, hundreds of dates, thousands of hours, spent on an activity that must be kept under wraps, except with close friends and relatives. Phone calls and decisions and dilemmas; all unmentionable. They know it, they guess it. But they don't speak of it. Because, of course, it's private.
I have a secret life.
5 hours ago