Humans lie for many different reasons. Some feel they’re insignificant to the world, lie. Some feel they are above the world, lie. Some even feel that they should be the same as every other person in the world, lie. People say they are going to show up, that they have your back, that they would never hurt you. Lies. Some lie for their own safety. Forgivable.

When you’re living these lies, the truth only gets heavier and hits harder. When putting up with lies, our mind only leads us to more lies. It starts out as, I am just not good enough to hear the truth. Then it leads to, I’m not good enough because I’m too fat, too stupid, too emotional, and so many other detrimental things. We all know that with every lie comes more lies. That pattern, in a very short time, will lead to a completely distorted reality. I understand reality can be thought of as subjective and some may question what is reality? In this context I’m referring to a reality that revolves around relationships. Not tables or chairs.

When someone sheds their lies and exposes their true self to me, I’m always filled with the same mixed feelings. It’s usually a mixture of: anger, confusion, fear, honor, and excitememt. Anger, because I was intentionally misled. Confusion, because I no longer know what’s truth and what’s lies. I have to sift through my memories of their past behaviors to find any glimpse of truth buried in their lies. Fear, because I wonder why I suddenly deserve the truth and why I was lied to in the first place. Then I wonder what you’re really hiding and my mind immediately shouts, “psycho killer!” Honor, because I was finally trusted to be told the truth. (Sounds weird, I know.) Excitement, because now, I can stop sifting and get to know who my friend really is.

All this doesn’t really matter, it’s not really the point. I know you don’t want to lie. I know how it feels to not feel and not want to. I know how it feels to escape to tomorrowland, full of art, dreams, and ambitions. I know our journeys are filled with times of fear, solitude, and there are a few times sprinkled in there of pure perfection.

I know how it feels to lose hope and find yourself looking up waiting for the well bucket to be dropped to you. Realizing, it’s never going to come and you must claw your way out. When you make it out people see your scars and the blood under your finger nails. They pretend to help. They pretend to care but where was the bucket. The blood makes their lies clear.

I don’t know everything but I do know these things

I’m here for you and I have hope for your future. I have hopes that your dreams come true and I know you, unlike a thief, will not die alone.

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