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On The Truth, The Whole Truth And Nothing But (And Why I Can’t Handle It)

November 2, 2012

For being as unfortunately talented as I am at both telling and recognizing when others are telling lies, I have all too frequently has to deal with dishonesty when it made no sense to me. Some lies are necessary, most are not.

There was a man I cared about very much who became enamored with someone else. I saw it unfolding in front of me and inquired about it multiple times to receive silence as a response. Imagine my heartache from having to confirm the truth by his father accidentally telling me! None of our mutual friends “wanted to get involved”. Some fucking friends.

I wish you’d told me. I knew why you didn’t, some sort of twisted logic in your head that it would hurt me less. Yeah, I wanted to be with you, but I wanted to know the truth more. I wanted and still want you to be happy, with or without me.

Some days, I really hate that I still love you. Not so much because of the hurt, but because I feel like an idiot for still having hope.

The truth sucks. It strips away all your illusions and fantasies. It’s pretty much never considered a good thing. Is that why we can’t handle it? Is the whole truth really such a terrible thing that we humans can’t abide it?

Are we stuck with half-truths and better off with beautiful lies?

Until Next Time,

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