Liar Liar Pants on Fire

Liar, Liar, Liar

I can't stop. I lie to you. I lie to him. I open my pretty, irresistible mouth and spew lie after lie, again and again.

How did this happen?

Each day I resolve to stop, but within hours, I lie again automatically...filled with dread once again.

I was trained to deceive at an early age. Hiding my molestation, my resulting (too early) sexual awakening, my religious crises, my bad boyfriends. Lying served me well, helping me avoid horrific familial conflicts, life's realities, my pain. Each time I turned my deceiving eyes and mouth towards those who eagerly wanted to trust me, it worked. I certainly looked like someone they could trust; I said the right things; I was sensitive, intelligent, sweet, and seemed vulnerable. No one seemed to notice how broken I really was.

My deceit carried a heavy price, providing the love I desperately wanted, but a love based upon false pretenses. I always knew those who loved me wouldn't feel the same if they knew the truth about me. And I never gave them the chance to really know me. I couldn't let someone know me in case that person rejected me. That would have been too scary and too real.

Then you came along. You were the one who lived with my lies and loved me anyway; the one who believed in me and told me to be brave; the one who saw through my pretty face and pretty words to my ugly lies, but more importantly, to the beautiful me inside. I found a home. But then...you messed it all up, and then I messed it all up. Sigh.

I love you. I miss you. I am with him now. I look at him; I love him; I lie to him. He's easier and also harder to trick than you were. He is hard to trick about every day things, so I mostly tell him the truth. But he is easier to trick about feelings. He wants me to love him and believes me when I say that I don't want you anymore. I wish I could flip that switch...move on...and finally be honest. I can't, and I can't tell him. For now, I keep lying, keep pushing myself to stop, and keep falling on my face everyday.

I wish you were here to put that mirror in front of my face and show me the truth. Sometimes the truth is so hard to find without you. And that's the truth.

--by sacrilegist, California, 09/17/2006