|Blogs > angeldickfuck > i love badjojo for change|
Being honest is important to me. Not because it is something I ought to do or something God expects from me or because it will make me a "good" person, but because it keeps me rooted in reality and dealing with my life. I appreciate honesty in others, because I believe it is courageous. Now I have been known to exaggerate a tawdry tale or two, but ever since kay, I have tried to be honest in all my dealings, no matter how small. What do you say when your boss is angry because you forgot an 8 AM meeting? Do you make up a plausible story ‒ easy ‒ or face consequences by apologizing and saying you just forgot about it? In my experience lies build upon lies which build upon other lies until the house of cards comes crashing down. We get entangled and lose track of what is real and what is fantasy. What do you say to a friend who asks you what you think of her new flame? Do you share what a bitch she is and how she is going to tear your heart out and face the disbelief and rage from your blinded friend? Or do you give her another reason for not continuing her passionate new relationship? Or do you tell her what she wants to hear and let her find out for herself, cradling her when she comes to you in tears after she has been devastated? I don’t know. Honesty forces you to think how to share the truth, it forces you to deal with life and not avoid it. Being honest with yourself is the hardest thing of all. How many times have I made excuses for a situation which I clearly knew was due to my own shortcomings? Being honest has cost me a great deal. My mother disowned me when I told her I wouldn’t go on a date she had arranged for me because I prefer girls. I hurt badly someone I really cared for when I was honest about my need for women. And I lost my heart when we came out to her parents.
Surya asked me the question. I thought I could avoid this longer than three weeks, but I suppose I am not much of a mystery about these things. We were sitting at lunch, not more than a couple of hours ago. We were talking about Sunday evening, we eventually had dinner with the guys, prolonging my agony because Surya really wanted to keep chatting to her guy. I tried, I really tried, but I haven’t a lot of patience for men, especially men who want to make me a notch in their belts. My eyes were roving, catching a delicately crossed leg clad in shimmering hosiery, or noticing the slinky, elegant walk of a tall Chinese woman as she passed our table on her way to the lounge. The dinner ended and I had fallen into an aggressive mood. As we were standing outside the brassiere, Surya was almost begging me to come with them to a trendy bar in the area. My guy was fulfilling his duty and I suppose I had to do my part so I agreed. While there my guy drifted away (thank god!) and I struck up a conversation with a girl I knew from Singapore. I saw Surya was getting along with her man, so I paid attention to my girl. She would glance over at me from time to time, checking to see what I was doing. When she had had enough, she gave him her number or whatever, and then she came to collect me. My hand was resting on my girl’s hand, leaning in against her, our faces close and smiling, our knees entangled in each other. She wore this scent that I couldn’t place but was intoxicating. Surya came by to say she was leaving did I want her to drop me off at home. daphne looked daggers at her and Surya seemed taken aback. I excused myself, kissed daphne good-bye, and left with Surya. The ride home was quiet. I asked if she wanted to come up and she said no, she was tired and just wanted to go home. I went home.
I didn’t see her on the train or at lunch for three days. Today I called her and she agreed to have lunch. I was excited to finally have a chance to chat. We sat down and she looked at me as if I was a stranger. So self-contained. She asked,
“Are you bisexual, because I am straight”.
Just like that, first thing out of her mouth. My heart sank. I asked,
“Why would you say that?”
“ It is so obvious, I don’t know why I didn’t realize it when you were mentally undressing that medical student.”
I looked down into my yogurt.
“Your little friend Sunday night looked at me as if I was stealing her boyfriend.”
I looked up at her, trying to see if the girl I was getting to know was anywhere in there ‒ I saw only a blank walll.
“I am a lesbian. Does that really make a difference to you?”
I felt anxious and sad and was hoping to hear what I wanted to hear, but just knew what was coming. She was clearly unsettled. I tried to put on my usual confident face, but I couldn’t. I tried to steel myself. There was silence for several agonizing moments as I waited for an answer.
“I don’t know, I don’t know how I feel about this. Is that why you have been chatting me up? Because you like me like that?
She looked uncomfortable, almost disgusted. I fought back my tears. I instinctively reached out to place my hand on hers, I leaned forward.
“No, no, not at all. I enjoy your company and having someone to talk with. Don’t you enjoy my company?
I was doing the best I could. I tried to engage her eyes, but she kept looking down and pulled her hand out from under mine.
“I don’t know, I don’t know, sure, I guess, if you like me and don’t want to take me to bed.”
“I like YOU Surya, your friendship is terribly valuable to me.”
She stood up. I looked up at her sadly, waiting for the hatchet to fall. She had so many things spinning inside her, she looked dizzy.
“And you hugged me and you touched me, you touched my face!”
And there it was. Disgust. I went numb. She pushed her chair in. Now I stood up, leaving my tea and yogurt on the table.
“I was taken by who you are, not how you look. You aren’t even my type. I want you as my friend, not my lover. If you can handle that then call me, you have my number.”
Just like that, the world turns. What difference should it make! Is honesty the best policy?