I have cat allergy eyes even though these is no cat I can see. I dated a man who was not himself. He was not anyone in particular. He was an amalgam of the haircut I suggested and the kinds of clothes I would wear if I were a man and much less daring and interesting than I undoubtedly would be. He was grounded to this earth in sneakers I would wear if I were a female, except the ones he picked out for himself. I would never wear those under any circumstance. His facial hair he removed himself because I didn’t like kissing it. Truth be, I didn’t like looking at it, either. It was too wispy and the mustache parts curled around his top lip. Just typing that gave me the fucking willies. I said it was because it triggered my father into my brain, and that may have been true when I said it. I don’t really know or remember. I do know, knowing me, that I would have said that even if it weren’t true because it is a nicer thing to say, you know, that, hey, you trigger in me flashbacks of my dead psychotic me-raping father, than to say, hey, uh, yuck. Your facial hair is yuck on many levels. I had long since been burdened by his complaining that I said early-on, before we were any sort of couple besides two people talking on the phone, that his hair was Jesusy. It was. He had televangelhead. I merely pointed it out. Not my fault that is how his hair looked.

Why do people get mad or annoyed or pissy at me when I am just pointing out the truth? The truth isn’t my fault. I refuse to apologize for the truth. And because other people would say, oh, no, you don’t have Jesusy hair, dude, it was somehow my fault. It was my fault that those other people were lying to him. Being polite is still lying. It was possibly lying when I said his facial hair reminded me of my dead bastard father. Again, I don’t remember if it was initially true at the time. I dissociated a lot back then and had amnesia. Being polite does not mean you are not a big liar.

I am a big liar. I frequently tell people things that are the things they want to hear. I do this because I don’t feel up to dealing with the actual truth as it pertains to others. I am busy working on how my truth pertains to me. Most of the people I lie to don’t give a crap about these answers, anyway. The situations being very similar to the emotional connectivity people feel when asking a stranger who they are doing today. Fine. Fine and move along. I especially lie to my mother because SHE CAN’T HANDLE THE TRUTH! And, honestly, I am going to be honestly honest about my lying, nothing she seeks the answers to are in any way her business. I am not going to be all open and honest with her now, over things that have zip to do with her. Or otherwise. Our relationship is just marking time until one of us is dead.