Honesty

I feel as though I've been lied to. That all the old adages of "Opposites attract" and "Whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" are actually false, created to explain something that no one else could come up with scientific evidence to prove or disprove. I mean, really, opposites don't attract; if that were the case, I would be in a relationship with a no good, lying dirtbag who would probably spend way too much money on things and care too little about people around him. The only good thing about that saying is that boys and girls are opposites, which is considerably important to me. And while, yes, if I'm not dead, I must be getting stronger, I feel this only applies to workouts (which can actually kill you... a rarity, but still possible). Everything else just drains you until it's too late to realize that you've actually learned something from it and you're back to that uphill battle.

But if there's one maxim that really drives me bonkers is that "Honesty is the best policy."

It's just not true.

On the surface, it seems like a really great idea. Yeah, telling people the truth is always good. If you're lying to someone else then where does that leave you? With a story to remember and a secret to cover. Plus, if you're being truthful with someone, you have a very specific reason to have told that person your thoughts. They may want to know if that cookie is a good idea or if this outfit is acceptable for a date or if their bald cat really is adorable and so smooth to pet. All things that, when asked about, usually require a fairly honest answer.

I've learned otherwise.

Like, when you need to talk to a professor about how this class is going to be challenging, don't tell him that you're feeling really unmotivated for this class and would like a suggestion about how to really get into the material, expecting a helpful answer but being met with "You should consider a different major."
Or, if you are really frustrated with someone and have been for a while and want them out of your life and you start telling them all the little irks and pet peeves you have with them, from being attached or being too aloof, and then being met with extreme guilt afterward when you think about your actions and how maybe, just maybe, you shouldn't have said that because you're just justifying their actions and allowing for explanation and excuses and they really won't change.
Or, being sort of honest through a witty joke (which is a mistake to begin with) and having them react in a not so savory way and being surprised at their reaction because you always joke with them about these things but have been walking around on eggshells for a while because you were afraid of their explosive temper and thinking it was safe to go back in the water only to be met with contempt and an acrid face and one syllabic answers.
Or telling someone that you aren't doing so well in a class, hoping that they will relate, but instead going off on how they understand everything they're learning, solved a problem for NASA, and won Miss America and it's not even Thursday yet.
Or showing someone your true feelings about a subject or a person and then letting them walk all over you because they have something to combat your sarcastic remarks with something not so sarcastic and more realistic and painful, all because you trusted them to take your honesty to heart and not to betray you and possibly try to show that they are someone who you would like to be friends with because you share these things now but only end up being kicked whilst down.

I'm glad I can be so honest; some people even have trouble saying 'yes' when they mean 'no.' But it's really difficult when you are so honest and you do lay your heart out on the table and others just take a sledgehammer and pound it a couple of times as you watch your words and blood and compassion and thoughts get splattered on the wall, dripping slowly down as you sink deeper and deeper into self-doubt and guilt and depreciation. Morbid? Yes. But being honest? Even more so.