To Be Or Not To Be A Liar?

27 Dec
Still-Life with a Skull, vanitas painting.
Image via Wikipedia

At the beginning of the year I stopped writing for many days.  Aiming for kind understanding, and supportive consideration of my friends’ feelings, I was not able to speak honestly with them about matters of their hearts.  I said nice things instead of true things.  And I felt silenced.  My inability to speak honestly to my friends had the added effect of rendering me unable to speak (on the page), period. 

How ironic that as the year began, so it ends.  I have not been able to speak to the one whom my heart adores and tell him how I feel.  Which has led to my inability, these past many days, to speak (on the page), period.

From the time that I heard he was engaged up to this present moment, I have lied to him.  I pretended that I was indifferent, then that I shared his joy, that I prayed for the bliss of him and his bride.  I told him how wonderful Chris was.  I responded to his most recent post-wedding text, and gushed that his wedding gift was Chris’ idea-that we (Chris and I) had shopped for it together.

I lied not in the words that I said, but in the words that I did not say.  I lied because I am afraid. And as this year closes out I realize that this fear is killing me silently, moment by moment. Like cancer.

Fear that if I love him, I will miss a better choice.  But I do love him.  So what other choice would I make?

Fear that if I tell him, I will surely lose him.  But he was engaged, and is now married, and lost to me, for all intents and purposes, already.

Worst fear of all:  If I tell him that I love him, emboldened by my boldness, he up-ends his ramshackle apple cart (and it is ramshackle) and loves me back.  I would then have to, finally, commit to this love that I feel, wouldn’t I?

It seems the things, including love, that I want the most, are the same things that I fear the most.  And that the fear overpowers the desire in every case.  Or has.  But I have reached the point—petrified of having the love I want and at the same time distraught by the loss of this same love—of change or die a paralyzed, distressing, silent, and slow death.

I want to live and to love.  So help me God.  To change.

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