The familiar flashing of danger signs blind my eyes; how did I ever let things go this far? The edge seems too close now to turn away. It’s tempting to jump but it’s easier to play the game I have learned to master over the years.
Plausible deniability; that moment when lies and not knowing are better because the truth can hurt. Plausible deniability; that moment when denying someone of the truth is a lot easier because some people just hate dragging everyone in a pit.
But plausible deniability either pulls you away or pushes people you love away; in a game of denial, no one wins—everything just adds up to a bloated balloon of faults and lies until it completely shatters, unable to recover.
Opening up, even to people closest to you, take so much courage to do. Most of the time, it’s not about trust. You can trust people with your life and still be unable to tell them what you’re thinking. Sometimes, the truth just sucks so bad it sucks to say it out loud. For some people, saying the truth out loud to another human being makes the truth real. It makes the truth out there, just out enough to destroy you.
That’s why people keep secrets, I think: to protect people they love, to protect themselves; and sometimes it’s both. Some truths about ourselves can be destructible enough to break ties and relationships. Some truths about other people can be destructible enough to destroy everything we believed in.
But most of the time, some truths about ourselves can be destructible enough to shatter our own lives; that’s why we keep it to ourselves; because it’s human nature to fight to keep whatever it is that makes us feel alive and whole. And in some days, these destructible truths could destroy these things, so we keep it to ourselves—to keep it from shattering the few things left unscathed.
Others may demand of the truth, believing that knowing makes us more powerful. Knowing the enemy is the best way to avoid it, to fight it.
They say rampant intellectualism can be used as a coping mechanism; that knowing everything is where coping with the truth starts. As they say it, knowing the problem is half the solution.
Rampant intellectualism is actually about trust. Do you trust people enough to tell them the truth? Do you trust people enough to believe they can handle the truth? Do you trust yourself enough to utter the truth out loud? Do you trust yourself enough to tell the truth even if your voice is shaking?
Knowing everything, just like plausible deniability, can either push people away or it will make you pull away.
Is it worth the risk?
You ask yourself these questions as you prepare your truth to be said out loud.
Is it true what they say about truth? That it sets you free? Or does it lock you away forever?
Yet in some days, people forget about time, or what they say about timing—it is everything.
I believe that the truth is about patience. And that patience could be all-consuming but the right timing could be worth it.
And though waiting is excruciating for most people, waiting for something is actually the reason why people survive in this planet. Every person has something they’re waiting for and that makes them hold on to another day.
What if we waited?
What if we just sit patiently, waiting until we deserve the truth? What if we just sit patiently, waiting until we’re finally strong enough to speak of the truth?
Some people would say they don’t have time.
But if the people around us are worth it, can’t we make time?