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2002-12-20 - 8:33 p.m.

There�s something I need to get off my chest. If you should ever utter these words and they aren�t being followed by you flinging your bra across the room or hocking up a big lugey, let me be the first person to tell you to shut the fuck up.

Confession is an ugly business. If you should happen to say get drunk at the office Christmas party and wind up making out in the mailroom with �Phil the Copier Guy� even though you know your friend wants to love him long time - well that might be one of those things that you can laugh about in the distant future when your both in happy and stable relationships.

But if you should get drunk and make out with your friend�s Dad, or catch your friend�s husband stumbling out of gay bar with his pants undone, or you happen to sleep with your friend�s significant other moments after they break up only to find out that they got back together the next morning� well that�s a horse of a different color entirely.

In cases such as these, you have to decide which kind of friend are you? Are you the kind that is compelled to tell the truth no matter how ugly it, or the consequences may be? Or the kind that feels that some things are better left unsaid? After all maybe the husband had just run in to Stonewall to use the bathroom. It could happen. Since you don�t know for sure you keep your mouth shut.

Maybe you are a little of both - you might tell your friend about her closeted gay husband for obvious reasons but leave out the fact that you were sucking face with her father at the time (why burden her with more problems right? You�re such a good friend) Or maybe you are the Time Bomb.

The Time Bomb thinks that they are going to keep mum but then six months, a year, or twenty down the road he/she decides that they just can�t go on in silence any longer. Confession is good for the soul as the saying goes. Right? You have a right to know and so he/she is going to tell you. Right now. So what if happened ten years ago and your life has been exceedingly happy all that time.

Or your boyfriend who cheated on you so long ago but had realized afterwards that you were the one, that he had made a horrible mistake and never looked at another girl (or boy?) again.

The way I see it confessions are like car accident reports - you have only 72 hours to make it or forever hold your peace.

But to the Time Bomb it is imperative that he/she confess the ugly knowledge to you. Why, because it�s the truth? Bullshit. Confessions are only good for one soul - the one that doing the confessing. And why should that person get relief anyway? It�s a terrible thing to ruin someone�s life and being unfaithful comes in many forms.

Drink of the Day: Wine - In Vino Veritas

*****

In other news my monitor is still busted. Damn company has yet to ship the replacement. Bastards!! I actually took the laptop home from work because I couldn't bear being out of touch any longer.

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