Romans & histoires The Trouble With The Truth

‘Of course it can be true,’ Helen said, and thereby: the truth. The egg cooker kept roaring. Water kept creeping through the door, and the officers kept looking disappointed. Most people don't actually want to hear what’s true. They cannot stomach it, and when they're served a slice of it, they get nauseous. The truth about the night of the 25th was exactly of this sort, even for Helen. Probably the worst truths are those you have to hide from your own mind, and this one she was desperately trying to hide from hers. ‘Do you need anything else?’

I have no idea how he's using them to type on the itty-bitty keys. I figure as long as he's able to ignore me, I can ignore him as well, which I have done wholeheartedly. Once I set my mind to something, my determination is unending. But it doesn't mean I'm not heartbroken. And I still don't know what to do. Sure, the answer seems obvious. Tell the fucking truth. Isn't that what they teach everyone in elementary school? The truth will set you free and all that. But here's the thing. The truth won't set everyone free. The truth will get someone in trouble. And that trouble will be a shockwave through our entire circle. If there's even a friend circle left afterward.

My strength fades. "Someone went to a lot of trouble to hide the truth." "Yes. More trouble than we imagined. More trouble than we ever thought possible. More trouble than we could have dreamed. More trouble than we can comprehend. More trouble than we can fathom. More trouble than we can measure. More trouble than we can count."

And when she finally spoke, her steadiness was a bit discomforting. “Jane… sometimes the truth doesn’t break us. It only shows that we’ve been living broken all along, and it gives us the opportunity to shape ourselves into something whole.” I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe that uncovering the truth about my mother, about HAB, about Nathan, about Julia, about all of it, would give me wholeness instead of dragging me down to my knees. But the fear inside me whispered otherwise. Back to the Present I opened my eyes at my desk and drew in a deep breath.

“That’s…” He shook his head slowly. “I wish I’d seen that.” I laughed softly. “It wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you’re imagining.” “I doubt that.” I continued anyway. “I walked them through everything.” “The fake infertility report.” “The domestic violence allegation.” “The financial fraud.” “The manipulation.” “The conspiracy.” I swallowed. “And then I ended by telling them…” I looked directly at him. “‘The truth does not become a lie simply because someone famous tells it.’” The room became very quiet.

"I just could not find the right words to say that to Efron... besides I don't think he would accept it if I rejected him!" Tristan sighed and frowned. "Damn, there is no right word to say that you don't like the person. The truth may hurt for a little while, but a lie hurts forever. Telling the truth and making someone cry is better than telling a lie and making someone smile. Three things cannot be long hidden: the Sun, the Moon, and the Truth, that's a quote!" "Well, I will tell him that some other time... right now, let's have some drinks!"

I tell whoever’s holding me. “You little bitch I don’t care about some damn boy, and some girlfriend- getting mad at him, because you were dancing with him. You girls are all the damn same as your all-fuckin’ sluts.” The guy behind me slurs, and I know in that exact moment I’m in big trouble. I hope Chad returns soon, but my hope fades when I hear someone at the door, only to walk away.” “Please, sir, let me go and I won’t tell anyone you’re up here. I promise.”

And the document with three words at the top. And the specific quality of a man who had been learning, slowly and with difficulty, to stop closing doors that wanted to stay open, and who had stayed in a room full of cameras last night because he’d decided not to retreat, and who had texted at midnight to say tonight didn’t change anything either. All of it was true. And the truth wasn’t clean. It was complicated and layered and required holding multiple things at once, which was the specific, hard work of a real thing as opposed to a managed one.

On New Year's Eve, Gwen Hurst and I attended a reunion with our old classmates. After several rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. Gwen was the first to lose and drew Truth. "What was your biggest regret when it came to love?" She answered without hesitation, but her gaze kept drifting toward her first love, Nikolas Stratton, who was sitting nearby. "My greatest regret was not ending up with the person I loved most. Instead, I married my backup and settled for a life of compromise." The room erupted in shock. Everyone thought I would storm out in anger, but I only smiled and gestured for the game to continue. When it was my turn, the question became, "Have you ev

"Becau--" "Because what? Hailee interrupted. "Hailee, she answered the question, let's just move on. "Whatever," Hailee rolled her eyes and folded her arms. I ignored Hailee's attitude and moved on with the game. I didn't know what her problem was, she was acting like a bitch but then again when wasn't she? "Hailee, Truth, or Dare?" I asked. "Truth," she answered. "What were you and Derek talking about earlier?" I questioned.