Confession

It was unfortunate how lives went. At some point you just expected people to straighten out their lives and understand when there was an actual lie being told to them. You watch them live their lives, grasping at the straws of attention they deserve but never get. That they starve and yearn for, the attention they so desperately need to thrive.

You watch your friends make decisions you would never make, based on the lies shoveled into their mouths. You watch them make the decisions you long to make, but can't as you listen to the lies you know.

But the most heart wrenching story is when the girl believes in nothing but lies. When she imagines a world based on sweet-nothings and empty handed promises. When she cries because of the truth and ignores reality, entrapping her own brain in the nemesis of imagination, compensating for her disbelief in the fists that rain upon her and seek solace in the apologies that seep into her skin.

The worst story is the woman who follows the cycle, who buys makeup to compensate for the bruises coating her face. The worst story is the woman who only believes in lies.

And never believes your confession of love.

Until you've sacrificed everything in her defense.