“The truth is painful. Deep down nobody wants to hear it, especially when it hits close to home. Sometimes we tell the truth because the truth is all we have to give. Sometimes we tell the truth because we need to say it out loud to really hear it for ourselves. And sometimes we tell the truth because we just can’t help ourselves. And sometimes we tell them because we owe them at least that much.” – Ellen Pompeo as Meredith Grey, Grey’s Anatomy
Honesty.
I never believed it to be the best policy.
Because the truth is, the truth is hard. It is awkward. It is ruthless. Most of the time, the truth hurts.
When you say “I only want the truth”, do you mean it? Are you really ready for such cutthroat, bloody truth? Is someone really ready to face it when the time comes for brutal honesty?
Honesty or kindness?
90% of the time, I’d choose kindness.
Not the other night.
That night I chose honesty.
That night I bared it.
That night I admitted to a mistake. To a result of poor judgment that led to hurting someone – someone I deeply care for, and love.
You know that feeling when you’re hurt? When it feels as if you’re having three root canals in one time without anaesthesia? It was more than that for me. I think it is the feeling of knowing that I’ve hurt someone. I cannot bear it. At that moment I could only wish to take me back to the time when I could’ve made the better decision.
But we live to experience the consequences of our actions. We have to man up and accept the accountability, even for those due to temporary insanity (out of lack of a better term).
Honesty.
Is it worth it, knowing that one mistake’s all it takes for your life to come undone?
Is it worth it, knowing that the one you cared for will most likely never have that same level of confidence (or worst, trust) in you?
Should have I kept the secret and continuously deny everything ?
I don’t know.
All I know is that during that night, I hurt someone with my honesty. I hurt myself in return.
Will it be better?
I’m hoping.
Not today, though.
