Of Honesty and Integrity

On Sunday, my wife and feorlen and I spent some time with friends we see too seldom. It transpired that these friends are considering a romantic relationship with a person I know, and one of them asked me, point-blank, what I thought of the idea.

Oh, boy.

Long and bitter experience has taught me the folly of getting involved in the romantic affairs of another. Even on those occasions where I have been right, every time I’ve done it, I’ve been sorry.

And yet, here it was. The question had been asked; I was not volunteering the opinion, it had been solicited. And I have knowledge of a destructive pattern of dishonesty in the individual in question’s romantic situations in the past. Exactly the information that had been solicited.

And with reason. Apparently, some flags had already been raised. So there it was. Evading the question seemed close to intellectual dishonesty; saying I had no reservations would be overt dishonesty. So I ansswered the question as asked, to the best of my ability, and now I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop and hoping that it doesn’t land on my head.

Which brings me to the crux of the matter, which is this:

None of this would be necessary if the person in question would Just. Be. Honest.

Why is that so difficult? I don’t understand. Is it really hat hard to figure out? Can dishonesty really become such a habit that you become blind to its consequences? Is it really so hard to see how much goddamn simpler your life is if you try to make a habit of honesty and integrity?

I mean, this person has a lot to offer–smart, witty, well-educated, capable of being compassionate and warm and giving and fun. So why? Why mar it with a habit of lies?

I know, I know–wasted potential, not hydrogen, is the most common element in the universe, and many are the people who have a lot to offer yet fall short of the mark. But still…