There comes a time in a man’s life, and presumably, a woman’s, when he has to tell the truth.
Sometimes telling the truth is an act of survival. A last ditch effort to protect what needs to be protected, to set free a person from her chains. Sometimes the truth is a gift we give each other, like the treasures we take out of our storeroom, new and old. We usually offer these gifts of truth in elaborate wrappings: humor, romanticism, superiority, rejection. What does it look like to offer the truth undisguised, to uncover it before another person? And what does it feel like to receive it?
The truths I am about to relate I bring out of my storeroom in the spirit of confession. They are wrapped in airport boredom.
5 Truths From The Heart, in Countdown Order
5. When I cooked this,
I told Ryan it was “instant cottage pie.” Then I told him the difference between that and sheperd pie was the potatoes. It actually has to do with what goes in the pie–not what tops it. If I recall correctly, I cooked with ground turkey. So, was it a stand-in for beef? For lamb? I still hear Ryan’s voice in my head, and I do not have the answers. Ryan, I do not have the answers.
Here is another picture, of HP brown sauce and an empty chair.
H: I’ve had Taylor Swift’s “Welcome to New York” stuck in my head.
J: What’s that song?
This is a double confession.
3. I told someone that I loved the East Coast. I don’t know if I really do.
This one has an epilogue: Within 12 hours in New Yrok City, I met someone from Sacramento who had Giants and 49ers hats hanging on her door. I gave both of them a kiss.
However, I also fell in love with Bryant Park all over again, and that is what matters.
2. “I prefer traveling with someone, because when I’m alone I just watch people and think about how cool they are and that I am not.”
1. I forgot to pack a raincoat. You don’t know me.