My old whipping boy. I was brought up literally IN the truth. It was the most important concept in my life. So I was told. It didn’t matter what, you told the truth. And I always did… when asked. But I didn’t always volunteer the truth unless asked. At least not the whole truth. I’d let slip some version of it. “Did you see who did that?” No. I knew. I’d heard. They’d confirmed it but I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. And that was the God’s honest truth. 

In 1989 I was living a lie. I’d been living a lie for a long time but it was a lie wrapped up, buried in fact, in acceptable truths. It makes me sound like such a terrible person but I wasn’t. I was decent, kind, hard-working, understanding, loving etc. etc. And I truly was all those things. Most people are. In my experience. It’s not until you get to know them you start to see that other side peek through. A slip here. A slip there. It’s hard to keep up appearances. You want to be decent, kind, hard-working, understanding, loving etc. etc. but deep down you know even at your most altruistic you’re being altruistic because it makes you feel good about yourself. And that’s pure selfishness. 

It took me a long time to stop probing. Nowadays I know I can come across as a little incurious, plain disinterested even. That’s not true. I just don’t want to be disappointed again. And I will be. As sure as eggs are eggs.