An Honest Woman

 

An Honest Woman

She looked directly in my eyes and said, “I think we should start seeing other people,” which meant she was already seeing other people.  Why couldn’t she just be honest and say “I don’t love you anymore?”  Then she’d have a clear conscience, and I’d be able to move on with my life sooner.   

My next girlfriend was dishonest too.  She didn’t want to tell me to my face that we were finished, so she accused me of groping her and got a restraining order requiring I stay five hundred feet away.  I called to ask why she lied, but she blocked my number.  I emailed her but went straight to spam.  If only she could have been honest and just told me that she no longer loved me.  She’d feel better and I’d have closure. 

My third girlfriend really wanted me out of her life completely.  She must have been afraid to confront me and hurt my feelings, so she faked her death instead.  Her car was found at the bottom of a cliff, burnt to a crisp, with a stolen cadaver inside similar to her except for the dental records.  That’s what gave her away.  She went to jail for the morgue break-in, arson, and falsification of medical records.  I ended up hurt and confused.  Why couldn’t she just tell me she didn’t love me?  She would have felt better about herself and she wouldn’t be picking up litter by the highway in an orange jumper now.  Why is it so hard to be honest?

So I went to a therapist for answers.   She said that maybe it wasn’t my girlfriends’ fault at all.  Maybe it was me.  Maybe I was trying too hard to maintain failing relationships, because deep inside I was trying to win the approval that my mother had never given me. It all made sense.  I realized then that my therapist was the only honest woman I’d ever met.  I told her I’d like to see her for as many appointments as possible, for as long as it takes, even if it takes the rest of my life.  She said no, she couldn’t see me anymore because she was retiring and moving to the Yukon.