Edge

I remember some time ago a very popular discussion subject was "would you rather know the truth or be lied to beautifully?"

Back then, most of the people I know answered that they would rather know the truth (chick excepted, she's into beautiful lies). I myself answered that I would like to be lied to, even for the sake of keeping the impression of a sane world.

That gave me closure and I concluded that most of the people want to face the truth and only dreamy, idealistic persons like me and the chick preferred poetry to facts.

However, recent events taught me that the real question is not of the passive receiving of facts or truth, but that of the sharing.

"Would you rather lie beautifully or tell the truth?"

In matters of life and death, is it sane to tell the truth after all? When telling a very dear one that his grandfather was dieing, that little hope remained and all we can depend on was his own strength and will to live, he hated me so fiercely for disclosing that to him, that I remained feeling small and mean and senseless. Out of pure desire to help a man prepare for what could come, to have closure and know how to act and react, to maybe go see his grandfather one last time before he went, to know where he stands and what to expect, I hurt him so bad that he almost blamed me for what was going on.

And suddenly felt a little older and wiser, learning that it was the other way around: I would rather tell and know the truth, be it hurtful or not, while the sane people around me....

It was a sad day.