Honesty

"Do you really mean that?" The words just hung in the air, followed by silence. The kind of silence that no one enjoys. The click of the ceiling fan tried hopelessly to fill the void. We sat on the couch awkwardly trying to figure out what happens next. I'm sure this kind of thing is commonplace in most relationships, but the first time can be a little jarring. Little did I know, this would be the first of many. Nothing really prepares you for this kind of thing. Nothing really prepares you for this kind of pain. My parents tried their best to temper my expectations, but I've always been a stubborn child. The sunlight cast shadows across half of the room while illuminating the other. There on the couch lay my masterpiece, a crumpled shell of a human. Almost instinctively, I managed to lay waste to any sense of value she thought she possessed. I could see the tears starting to collect toward the bottom of her eyes. The dams of her eyelids, struggling to contain the inevitable. Honesty, I've found, is best doled out by the spoonful, rather than by the bucketfull. A moment of extreme honesty set the precedent for years to come. In that moment I realized the power I possessed. In that moment I realized I was a terrible person.