A lonely word indeed....

Honesty - what a lonely word.

A quote, from someone whom I admired, respected, cared about….and, whom I discovered, the hard, ugly way, would rather believe someone they don’t even knowabout the character of someone they do.

I’ve always been a goody-two-shoes. It’s part of my charm, or, perhaps, the lack thereof…I’ve never smoked pot, which means clearly, I’ve never done any other drugs, since pot is the precurser to all other recreational drugs. I drink, but in the clever, adorable, I look fabulous with a martini glass in my hand kind of way, not the black out binge drinking I’m not fun, kind of way. I only issue heartfelt invitations; my cookies are made from scratch, my pancakes, have been, on occassion, hand poured in the shape of a dinosaur, for Fox. My dad taught me that. It’s a skill I’m glad I learned.

I like argyle. Pink argyle. I don’t lie, cheat, or steal, and while I’ve broken a heart of two, (or so I’m told) I’ve never tried to do it with malice, or vicious intent. I’m toohonest, truth be told (do pardon the pun, unintended, I assure you) so if you’re not sure you want my opinion? Don’t ask. I don’t do sneaky, unless you count well-thought out Christmas surprises, or birthday presents….I have a thing for parties, birthday’s, regardless of whose deserve cake, with frosting; and no one, should ever travel without finding a little something in their pocket, computer bag, or folded into a tee, that smells of me, and them, because well. You never do know when the last time you kiss them, or tell them you love them, may be.

I know this.

I should’ve lived in the ’40s: I knit, collect stationary, make rediculous books that tell people I care about them, scrapbooks, filled with moments, and memories, all the things I cherish most in life. I like hand holding, and kissing, more so than sex; sleeping next to someone special, who’s warm, and kind, strong, and wrapped all around me? Heaven. Small joys in life, that perhaps, some take for granted, but I don’t. Ask me about relationships, and most of my guy friends groan, because I want the drive in movie, with popcorn made at home, not-yet-cold soda in the cooler, and a tired puppy laying in the car with me too. Sure, I’d love flowers - but really? When it’s a horrendous thunder and lightening storm, come home early, hug me like you won’t let go, and do something - anything - so that I don’t have to see the lightening. I’m tired of being brave for everyone, and if I’m alone, I will hide in my closet. I don’t want to do it all by myself. It’s not the trash, it’s the whole….life. I want to stand next to someone, their hand holding mine when Fox graduates from the 2nd grade; at his Christmas pageant, because his big, beaming gap-toothed smile is the best gift I’ve ever received. We’ve ever received.

Favorite movie? Cinderella. Not just because she has great hair at the end, fabulous calves, a whole host of mice working as her ladies in waiting; not even, because she has a fairy Godmother, though I wouldn’t turn up my nose, should one fall into my path. She believes that good things will come, that doing the right thing - what she’s told to do - is more important, even when it’s hard, no one’s watching, and it’d be easy to bend the rules.

I follow rules.

I get hurt.

A lot.

I believe in integrity, and honor; when I find a good thing, I’m going to hold onto it.

So when I get stabbed in the back, by someone, who so clearly intends to do me harm - and, boy, have they ever - I expect, at the very least, to be asked about it. To have someone who claims, they love me, not even tell me what some coward is saying behind my back, well. I’m glad I know now that while he “doesn’t get angry”, he’ll just up and leave, without so much as a by your leave. I suppose, I should be glad I know now, and not after Fox had fallen for him too, and my family. Then again, I’m not sure it could hurt more than it does right now.

I suppose in the end, he truly was right, at least about one point:

Honesty.

A very lonely word indeed