Don’t Lie to a Person Who Trusts You, and Don’t Trust a Person Who Lied to You or a Dog in a Relationship

Why does a lie always come to light? Why is it NEVER worth it and why does no genuinely loved person ever deserve our lies?
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I have a dog. I like watching him.

He’s headstrong, but honest in love. He immediately shows everybody clearly: I like you/I don’t like you.

He never lies. Why can’t people be like this?

Every Friday, I meet readers of my blog. We discuss what’s bothering them, what they have on their mind. Every story is remarkable. This one is about a person that wanted to be happy and not hurt anybody. In the end she was unhappy and hurt everybody. Even herself.

Stage 1: Jelly baby

She had been married for years. She had a single problem with her husband—in the bedroom. She was worried: Had he grown tired of her? Had he got bored of IT? What should she do to be attractive for him again? She had a hang-up about it.

But she wasn’t alone. Whenever she tried to broach the topic with her husband and discuss it honestly, he dismissed her grumpily—he probably felt he wasn’t a man and was incapable.

But she had to satisfy her natural desire. And so… she found a lover.

Suddenly, she was satisfied—she had the only thing she wasn’t getting from her husband. And her husband calmed down, because she suddenly stopped bothering him about it. He didn’t ask why, he was happy the problem had disappeared.

But it was just an illusion. A problem that isn’t actively resolved is like a jelly baby thrown onto the pavement. It starts to get bigger in a puddle.

Stage 2: Jug handle

The problem didn’t swell up with the couple, but with the woman’s lover. He genuinely loved the woman; perhaps that was why the love-making was worthwhile. But because he loved the woman, in time he wanted more—to be her partner.

But the woman already had a partner and didn’t want to lose him. After all, he had 75% of what she wanted from a man. But she didn’t want to lose her lover. After all, he had the 25% that her husband lacked.

She didn’t want to lose either of them, so she lied to both of them. She claimed to her husband that she didn’t have a lover. She told her lover that she would get divorced. It was only a matter of time before the handle of the overloaded jug came off.

It always happens differently. In the case of this woman, the lover found the husband to directly ask him what was actually happening with the divorce, which seemed to be dragging on. The husband was shocked, the lover was shocked. In the blink of an eye the woman was burned in both places.

She didn’t want to lose her husband, or her lover. So she lost both of them.

She sat opposite me, her head in her hands, defending herself. “I wanted to be 100% happy,” she explained. “Should I have remained unhappily with my husband?” And the other way around: “Why should I destroy my marriage because of one problem?”

Stage 3: Linked vessels

When I wrote The 250 Laws of Love, people wondered why a relationship needs some rules. We love each other, that’s enough, they argued. But freedom needs laws, as does peace—just like war.

There are three main laws in love: 1. Don’t lie. 2. Don’t cheat. 3. Don’t make promises you can’t keep. They work like linked vessels. It makes no difference where you start. When, however, we start taking one liberty, we soon get used to taking a second and third. The young lady’s Lying, Cheating and Unreliability are daughters of the same mother. And we can imagine how she looks.

Why is it actually bad to lie to a person that doesn’t trust us?

And why shouldn’t we trust a person that lied to us?

Please, continue to the 2nd page.