The Fallacy of Honesty

People claim to want honesty in relationships, but all they actually want is flattery and sugar cookies. Seriously, a few nice words mixed with fresh baked goods and all misdeeds will be forgotten. It’s true of anyone: you begin to fumble with infatuation with another and ask, “What is important to you in relationships?”

“Honesty, communication, and that the girl stays in the kitchen.” He responds, a smile on his lips, because you both know why this discussion is happening.

Your heart skips a beat; his answer reflects your very heart AND he totally gets your sense of humor!

Flash forward, and you are asking him to go see that romantic comedy that your friends can’t make it to, but you must see! And he goes along. He laughs at all the funny parts and holds your hand the whole time, but since when has he enjoyed romantic comedies? You ask him after the movie, and he tells you how this one was just really funny.

You make plans to see another movie with him, this time his pick, on the following weekend.

Two days before your planned date you are preparing for your day at work. As you apply mascara in the bathroom, your mouth slightly open while you lean over the sink and find your nose a mere one and a half inches from the mirror, you plan out your wardrobe and imagine him bringing you flowers and you are just so excited to spend another evening with him. You feel your phone buzz from within your pocket. A text! You hope it’s from him.

“Hey baby, I have to cancel this weekend. I’m sorry I swear I’ll make it up to you! I forgot that I already told the guys I’d go out with them.”

It is petty (you aren’t starving or anything), but you are crushed. You read it again, trying to decide if you should respond with frustration or depression, and you say:

“Okay. That’s fine, we’ll do something some other time.”

We all compromise. We all quickly cover up our true feelings and put on a mask. I wonder how long these masks will last? We say we value honesty in our relationships, but when he watches a movie he doesn’t like with you, we call it love, like sacrificing two hours of time that would have been spent sitting and watching something else is more important than a few words of truth. And when something is upsetting, it is forgotten and we are fine; it is a one time thing.

We don’t actually want honesty. We just want someone who will be selfless while we are selfish. So is human nature. It is a constant fight with our natural and selfish selves to keep convincing the world and those that we want to love that we are one of the few who are different. One of the few who will actually love till death, don’t parade ourselves, and are actually always honest. Let’s be real, we’re just trying to convince ourselves of the impossible, but, if we bake some cookies and unveil them with a lie, the lie will be forgotten and they’ll believe every word again, right?

Book Review: The Fault in Our Stars

A review (heavily laden with my emotions) regarding the fantastic John Green book, The Fault in Our Stars. If you have not read the book and do not want spoilers, do not read ahead. If you have not read it and expect me to summarize it and explain things to you so you understand my references, read the book and then return here. If you have not read it and do not care if you do not understand my references, then continue on. Finally, if you have read it, I believe it is safe to continue.

I am starting to regret reading The Fault in Our Stars. It is another reminder of the love I have never shared with anyone. All romances do these days is depress me. I already feel lonely enough and this book shoves it in my face that people are falling in love and living in love and dying in love and I’m just like, I can’t even get anyone to look at me who I find in the least bit attractive and here’s this fictional terminally ill girl with a hot boy crushing on her and then loving her.

Till the bitter and sorrowful end. As is typical of relationships, someone gets devastated. He devastated her, but not in the abusive or walk out on you or lead you on or cheat on you way. No, in the “oh my God there has never been a relationship so wonderful and he loved her so much all the way till death because he never had the time to find any weakness in her or really argue with her about like money or kids or where to live or how to pay for food.” Yes, I understand, they had cancer. It is a big deal. It is also a very legitimate excuse for arguments and sadness and general moodiness. If they didn’t have cancer, I wonder how these two fictional characters would have faired together?

It reminded me of thoughts I have had about depression as I have dealt with it. (Yes, I am still young enough to turn all conversations back to me. This is my blog. I am selfish.) Following discovering that my ex cheated on me and then breaking up with him, there was concern regarding my emotional state as I had been trying to keep negative stimuli out of my life since I planned out my bloody suicide. But here’s the thing: I now had a “legitimate” reason to be upset. Instead of waking up in the morning wondering why the hell someone with such a great life like mine could hardly move and wanted to end it and just Could Not Stand This Life (Yes, I stole the capitalization of words for emphasis from John Green. Shh.), I woke up and thought, “Man, I feel like Shit. Screw relationships.” And crawled out of bed while I constantly shifted between planning how to get my revenge to planning how to win his heart to planning how to never see him again to planning how to stay with him forever.

Then, instead of being like, “I’m so depressed for no reason,” I’m like, “I’m such a girl and hopeless romantic. I’m being so emotional about this. I wonder if I’m about to start my period.” And so… I’m brought back to this book and think, if these fictional characters did not have cancer, would they have even talked? Let’s give them the opportunity to meet. A perfectly healthy girl and a perfectly healthy boy would maybe glance at each other, but, upon first meeting, would an American boy who had not faced death have the nerve to ask a girl he liked over? No. He thinks there will be other opportunities. He doesn’t want to jump in too fast.

Now, let’s say that Augustus’ charisma goes far beyond his cancer and an always-been-healthy him would ask a always-been-healthy Hazel out. What would have happened? They would have dated for a time. They would have kept each other entertained with their stories and metaphors and books, as I’m sure they would still enjoy those things without the cancer. But. At some point, they would start fighting. They would start seeing those flaws. Or maybe they would just see someone they liked more. Whatever the case, this would have turned into one of Kaitlyn’s high school love affairs.

This is one of the reasons this book is so beautiful to me. It is that glimpse of love that we do not normally have as normal people. It is heart wrenching, and you know what is going to happen, but you cannot stop reading. You just have to see and feel it for yourself. And, by the end, you are hoping for a love that doesn’t exist. Without the pain, without that impending doom, without those legitimate excuses, we become so selfish and hope for that Amsterdam to last forever. We see Our Last Good Days and recognize how “I love you” becomes seldom said and “okay’s” are strained at best. The flower petals grow bothersome. You can no longer taste stars in the Champagne. You begin to wish he smiled straighter.

They never reached that point, so the story lives on beautifully and honestly. No fake happily ever after, no drama of cheating and break-ups and nonsense over nothing. All their pain was genuine, as well as their love. Together, they were just living, loving, and dying.

I don’t think I should read any more romance or cancer books.

P.S. I regret to admit that I read 50 Shades of Grey. To give you an idea of my current pessimism involving relationships, I was very happy with the ending of the first book and will never read beyond it. She should not be with Christian. She needs to get over him. Good girls never actually save/help/whatever bad boys. This was a very fitting end to a terribly written tale. So, though I do still believe in love, I think our culture is very misguided on what that actually means. It means a shit ton of work. Not butterflies. Not infatuation. Not hot sex. Not romantic evenings drinking Champagne and eating food from God Himself.

No, love is Work. And patience. And trust. And respect. And communication. And it is this current culture of “I want happiness now and that is all and I deserve to be happy and have an easy wonderful life and be loved for no reason other than the fact that I am me” that really pisses me off when it comes to people being terribly misguided in this world. This is my opinion. I’m tired. I may consider writing more about this in the future. This P.S. is past its prime. Goodnight.

Determination and Pets

I am sitting in Panera picking dirt out from beneath my fingernails with the same pocket knife that I have used to slit my wrists in the past. Sadness and a slight look of helplessness would waft across my father’s face if he knew the uses I have put his Christmas gift to.

Determination is the only thing I currently have on my side, or so I feel. When words begin flowing across the screen, I determine that this is how I will spend my days and my knife will never see the red of blood again. But there is no promise. Determination does not guarantee another fall into depression of the magnitude that I have experienced in the past.

I have missed posting blogs, but in the midst of moving and decisions and revelations and new jobs, I have had a lot on my mind that I feel is not worth sharing here. To say the least, life has been simple.

There is less drama, and the insufferable roar of jealousy haunts me no more. I once again am left without attachments, but I have found a purpose in my words. My English class is teaching me more awareness and better editing skills, and in considering the state of the world and my experiences, I have decided to focus my writing, and thus my career, on opening the world to discussions of mental illness. The stigmas surrounding psychiatric disorders used to leave me hiding, but what is wrong with hiding diabetes? Or cancer? Or heart disease? Depression, schizophrenia, or bipolar disorder all have a physical cause. Yes, outside things may influence them, akin to how everything gives you cancer in the state of California. Yes, they can be harder to diagnose and target, but medical research is constantly advancing in this.

So, I finally have a focus, and my determination paired with this focus will enable me to recover from any relapse.

Upon adopting Antonio, my adorable Australian Sugar Glider, I decided that I need to research the use of Sugar Gliders as emotional support animals. When I adopted him, I instantly noticed an improvement in my mood. The hardest part of my depression is waking up at 3am every morning feeling completely empty and alone, but now I wake to the sound of my nocturnal companion running around his cage. Playing with him until I can finally fall back asleep has alleviated the majority of my emotional disturbances throughout the night.

Honestly, this is a life-altering adoption for me. Children have never interested me, but a pet I can put in my pocket and carry around with me all day while he sleeps and then play with him when I wake up at odd nightly hours is perfect.

So, if you struggle with insomnia or depression, consider adopting a Sugar Glider. At some point when I am not sitting in Panera I will take some pictures of Antonio and talk about his amazingness more, but there is only time for a short introduction right now.

Three Day Old Love Note

I love you with the perfect timing of rain

Yesterday, we moved the last of our items away from our old home. When we closed and locked the doors for the last time and the rain began to gently fall, I could not help but smile. I was sitting in the passenger seat of your car, legs getting damp as they rested on the curb beside your parking place. I swear the rain started just as you turned the key on the deadbolt for the final time. As you walked across the porch and down the stairs, I knew this love would not fade with time.

Now, on the floor of a friend’s home and within the hours of 3 and 4 am, I awake to roll off the couch to your resting place. I cuddle with you on the first of many nights we spend making new homes. I whisper into your ear.
“I am going to miss you.”
Your rhythmic breathing continues in your sleep.
I love you with the perfect timing of rain and smiles that are for goodbyes and sadness: beautiful, bittersweet, and eternally within my heart’s memory.


I am incapable of writing right now. I moved to a different state and ended relationships and sought out old ones and left behind the place I grew to call home. I was asked about my method of writing and realized that I do not have one. I write to rid myself of pieces of me I do not want to remember.

I no longer have a home. I am already making plans to escape. Leave.

I was betrayed by the ones I loved. And so my wordpress posts diminished. You’d think I would have a lot of inspiration and write and write, but instead I wish to keep it hidden away so as to not harm the reputations of those I still love.

A raw ache and a feeling that I expected this all along are all that I am finding.

And we smile.

I wrote that somewhere on this blog. I just wanted to keep smiling with you.

But. Every relationship ends with either break-up, divorce, or death; isn’t that right, John Green?

I read An Abundance of Katherines mostly for the name of the book, but also because it was what I needed to read as I prepared to move and took to writing pages and pages about my relationships. I wanted a happy book by the time I was done, but it is only a tragedy that I have lived thus far.

And so, I must keep on living until I can find a place where this is not a tragedy. At some point, I’ll date someone who will choose to love me instead of abuse me, use me, leave me, or cheat on me.

Mostly, I must keep on living for the next few days until my Prozac starts working again. I lost it in the depths of my car while I was moving and cleaning and did not take it for four days. My brain hurts and my emotions are in real disarray right now.

Hopefully, I can start writing better posts in a few days when things settle more and I find more things to write about that are not discriminating in anyway towards anyone.

I am almost sorry that some of the things here sound like those passive-aggressive statements upset individuals post on Facebook directed at certain people. (Only almost. I enjoy being honest here.) I did not mean for this to come across like some pathetic break-up post. Oh no, why me, I’ll never find happiness in relationships! I don’t normally talk like that. I was just reflecting on how truly shitty my relationships have been and realized that probability has it that I’ll find a good one after all these failures.

But for now I will once again treasure the singleness I had previously loved.