Yes, but is it honest?

As I meandered home after work last week, I let my mind go for a bit of a bound off the leash I so securely wrap round my wrist. It returned panting and dribbling slightly with all kinds of useless crap. But then a great revelation- "drop it! DROP IT"- surfaced.

You know how people say that you can only be loved if you love yourself? Makes sense, doesn't it. After all, how can you expect somebody to love something you don't bear any respect for? You can't, can you? I came to terms with this long ago. But lucky me, I don't desire love. Not lately. So love and I are on agreeable terms for once.

But say you met somebody who you can definitely say would love you for who you are. And you had not been yourself lately. You're going to reject that love, right? And then, what kind of love do you attract? Who's loving you when you're not you? It certainly can't be an honest relationship.

What's the value of honesty, these days, anyways? Does "happy" appear before "honest" in that great list of things "people" desire in their lives?

A good friend of mine once had the misfortune of hearing about some sordid lover I once kept, in all sorts of sordid detail. Oh, not the type you're thinking of. My erotic detail leaves much to be imagined. Instead, I dwell on furtive glances. A remark he made about my favourite sundress. How he holds a wine glass. She interrupted my vague, sappy flow with a crisp query that shut me right up. She may have even banged her palm on the steering wheel, but probably not: "Yes, but is it honest?"