A.N. I don’t know what brought this on. Just thinking and it’s rather scattered.

The Truth Hurts

The truth hurts. It hurts me, it hurts you. Knowing something true, something that actually happened or how someone actually feels. A father, only loving two of his three children, tells the unloved one that he doesn’t want him. He wishes the child had never been born. That hurts! It tears up the soul of that child, knowing he’s unwanted, he’s unloved.

So what do we do if we’re that father? If we decide to be responsible?

We lie.

It’s so easy. Pretend you love that child. Give him a hug and a kiss before bed. Throw him a birthday party and congratulate him on a good report card. Lie so much you even begin to believe it yourself.

But the truth can feel good too. Telling someone they look beautiful when even the stars bow down to them feels good. Laughing at a good joke is even a form of truth. It’s letting someone know they made you happy. It’s true, it’s good.

Lying can hurt. Telling someone you don’t love them, when you really do hurts. But when lies really hurt is when the truth is laid bare. Like that child, finding out his father really doesn’t love him, but pretended to. Might as well have told him you never did.

Some of us are born truth tellers. They wouldn’t be able to lie if their life depended on it. They tell the truth about everything and are pure in all the actions they do. You look at them and know you can trust them, because they tell the truth and what you see is what you get.

Others are born to lie. Their first instinct is to cover up the truth because it’s too precious for everyone to know. Too fragile. You look at them and if you know they are liars you don’t trust them. It’s not because they lie although you think it is. It’s because you don’t get what you see. What you see is a mystery.

Even though it’s in their very nature, someone who lies is always looked down upon. But so are those who tell the truth. Maggie always tells the truth. And she leaves nothing out, because that is a form of lying. What you see is what you get. You can’t tell her anything, because she’ll go a blab it to the whole country. And it’s the truth, and it hurts.

Jessie on the other hand, always lies. Always stays silent unless asked a question. The answer is only a partial truth or an outright lie. More often than not, it’s a mixture of the two. His favorite color is Royal Blue, but he just says blue. So when he get’s a sapphire present, he pretends to like it because it’s blue and he told Marissa that’s his favorite color. But it was only partial truth. But he can keep a secret. Because the truth…

It hurts.