we’re all liars, at some point. we lie to ourselves, our loved ones, our bosses, our g-d.
a drug counselor of mine, post “i totally got caught with weed in boarding school and now HAVE to, against my will, to some kind of counseling situation”, once told me: “NOT telling ’em is a lie”. The details of this matter not, but what he introduced me to was the lie of omission.
it’s a total bitch.
i am currently navigating a lie of omission. it concerns the bigger pictures of life, my career, my wants, my desires. it involves applying for a dream job, in a not-so-dreamy place, which, coincidentally, is where my current sweetheart resides.
what are my intentions here? every decision we make is driven by some underlying force. sometimes this force is plain as day, other times we are completely unaware of it’s dull, pulsing undercurrent as it guides us, like puppets on strings, to fulfill our destinies. sometimes, these strings feel restrictive. other times, insincere. all this jargon to ask: why the hell did i apply to this job?
there’s a few reasons:
1. i’m curious to see if i can even get it.
2. i want to be closer, physically, to my significant other, thus beginning the spiral into weekends of farmer’s markets, weddings, and shopping at home depot.
3. i want a change.
4. i’m grasping at nothing, i try because immobility will kill me.
the lie? i haven’t told my sweetie. why? because the gravity of even the small possibility of this job opportunity coming to fruition makes me doubt my intentions in the relationship. in the end? we want different things. i know that now. living closer together would solve nothing in the long term. for this, i feel guilty. we have recently rekindled the relationship – at MY bequest and MY efforts. can i be the one to end it again? why delay the inevitable? perhaps because it isn’t.
i lie to him, a lie of omission, i do not tell him my plans, i do not reveal what could be a solid lead to a fruitful partnership. this job offer leads us down a serious road, of lovely, beautiful things. but i just don’t know if those treasures are for me. perhaps these crimson rubies belong to someone else, and i’m just the girl for a faraway cache of sapphires.
for now, here’s a picture of my dog, as he stands proudly atop a mountain. he’s the man to whom i confidently divulge all my secrets.