20 Lines A Day

A Community of Writers and Photographers



We all have secrets: things which we regret having said or done, things of which we are ashamed.  It becomes a wall behind which we hide.  On rare occasions, we drop some part of our armor; but, usually secrets remain secret.  One fact, of which my family was aware, was that I never intended to marry.  Thus, during my mid-twenties and early thirties, single men held no interest for me.  Instead I preferred infatuation with men who found me more attractive than their marriage vows.

Then I met a salesman.  He was bright, inventive, and never a bore.  The longer I knew him, the better I liked him, which was unusual in my former relationships.  We lived together for sixteen years and he was already ill when we finally married.  I was forty-eight and he was sixty-one.  I loved him dearly; yet, when he often said I was his whole world it made me unhappy.  I didn’t want to be anyone’s whole world.  I didn’t want the responsibility.  A year and a half later, I lost him.

During his long illness, we spent weeks . . . months in hospitals with occasional reprieves of freedom to go home.  During one such reprieve he wanted to visit his younger brother: a school principal and owner of a pawn shop.  When we arrived at the shop he checked out the jewelry counter which held several wedding bands.  When we married we had used a ring I already owned.  He called me over, pointed out the wedding bands, and said, “One of these days, I’m going to buy you one of those.”  I smiled and moved on to another area of the shop where I said, “That’s fine, but I’d rather have one of these typewriters.”

How could I have said anything so thoughtless about something which obviously meant much to him?  I immediately regretted my words; yet they were the truth.  Jewelry, including wedding rings, meant little to me . . . but I was a writer.

Author: G. Jordan Hall

I write, I read, I do crossword puzzles, I have a dog named Peach. I have been writing for over forty years. My first book was: Marching Songs. I have probably written, or at least started, twenty or so books since then. None of them were published in hard cover or even paperbook. I now have two books on line as Kindle books.

4 thoughts on “Secrets

  1. Thank you for this story today. Sometimes we don’t realize when it happens how important it should be, until its too late to rectify it… We all at some point have experienced this I think… Very well written…

  2. I love it, it takes courage to write with honesty, to say secrets to everyone ….who reads. Thank you for sharing this G !

    And of course, welcome aboard ! :)

  3. This has stayed with me all day. Thank you for this first raw glimpse, and as A Rambling Poet says, welcome aboard. — Melissa

    From “For the young who want to”

    ” … The real writer is one
    who really writes. Talent
    is an invention like phlogiston
    after the fact of fire.
    Work is its own cure. You have to
    like it better than being loved.”

    — Marge Piercy

    • Thank you Melissa for the kind words and thanks for inviting me aboard. I love the quote by Piercy and believe it is true. However, a writer is also one who is read and that is a rare enough happening for me . . . other than family, of course. Perhaps I haven’t been persistent enough, but I do love to write and mostly for my own amusement. Gayle.


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