Lover’s Recidivism

People will go to great lengths to lie, when the truth is even slightly unpalatable. I seek to understand others, even when I am hurt; I try not to assume malice when any other option exists. Naturally, I expect others to seek understanding with me. When I mess up, I fess up. I think, “They will understand why I made the decision I made and find a way to love me through their anger.”

I can report with 37 years of research: Most people prefer you lie to them. I find that so bizarre.

I want no lies and pretending is only for fun. I want to admit I rolled my neighbor’s yard then sprayed it with the hose, and you shake your head, shout, “You sick puppy!” high five me, then we laugh until I uncomfortably concede I really got to reign it in.

I want someone to grab my hand, our eyes lock, they nod, then we plunge into dark, shark-infested waters.They would make me feel like everything is never going to be OK, but there’s no one better to be unOK with. What a miserably good life!

It’s comical how I always seem to find the ones who nod, I jump, then surface alone. If I never felt this icy disappointment in my chest again, it would take a dozen lifetimes to thaw. I hope you’re thinking about some of that scary shit that lives in permafrost we all know could be coming back with a death plague from BCE, because that’s basically my heart now. Not really dead, but waiting to kill.