The Subtle Art of Caring for a Stray
by K. Joffré
Somewhere along my life I had to become a good actor–not a Meryl Streep–but good enough to scurry off with small lies every so often. There were a few big lies, mostly about my sexuality, but most were small lies; like where I was, what I was doing, who was I doing it with, so forth and so on. What people never tell you about lying is that it creates a compulsion which blossoms into a habit. If you always lie then you are compelled to continue to lie even when it isn’t necessary. This was probably why I had never confessed to Bobby Lee that I had been to his ex Jason’s apartment earlier that year for a night of hot sex that turned into an awkward early morning good-bye. I had also neglected to tell Bobby that I did not like Jason because Jason had also lied to me when we first met, leading me to believe he liked me when he was just using me for a place to stay. Bobby assumed that I had never been to Jason’s place, and so introduced our destination as somewhere deep in Brooklyn where he used to live with Jason.