honesty

One hard thing about honesty, it leaves you standing in front of everyone without anything to hide behind--like those bad dreams where you go to school without your pants on. What would we do without the stuff we hide behind?

I wonder if most of us are too afraid to be honest. It gets tiring, though, to carry your gear around all the time--the kit you hoark around to play make-believe. Honesty is light--like a vacation without the luggage.

My trips usually involve big luggage. It's better to be prepared; you never know what people are looking for. I am tired, though. I want to travel light, but I'm afraid I'll leave the wrong bag at home, and there I'll be: out to dinner without my pants.

So here's to living naked--to admitting I'm not so smart. To admitting that I'll never be as important as I want to be. And to believing that I am loved anyway--not my jeans, not my sweaters, but the me in the shower reaching for a towel.