I could be free because I couldn't lie about being happy about being with someone. Or hell, I probably wouldn't have even gotten married b/c I couldn't lie to myself about being in love. With either of them.
But then I think.
I would also be unbelievably unhappy. Not because I am a liar. I am not. But because I like my secrets. I don't like others seeing my weaknesses or knowing everything I've done/experienced.
When someone asks how I am, I like to say, “Good,” no matter what. B/c when you say bad, or mad, or upset, sad or confused, it provokes emotions in people. Negative emotions. All I want is for you to be happy. When you feel sympathetic toward me, I feel sorrier for myself. When you feel sad, I cry. If you get mad with me, you fuel my fire. When you pity me, I get angry. See the pattern?
But when you're happy, it makes me smile and I'm happier too.
If my hell helps you, I’ll gladly talk about it. I’ll try to give you advice, but don’t be surprised if I don’t talk about my bad day. Sure I rant and rave a little. Sure I put quips out there. But that’s all. It’s not for attention, it’s to get it off my chest and move on. (Though I’ll never turn down a hug, jsyk)
Lately, my façade is cracking. My secret jar is overflowing and some “Not Good” responses are seeping out. Give me a hug and tell me a joke.
So does that make me a liar?
I’ve always prided myself in being an honest person. I feel that I truly am. I don’t see it as lying, I see it as hiding. But I guess the two are one in the same, aren’t they? I’ve always thought “Don’t ask, don’t tell.” But you did ask, and I didn’t tell. Not honestly anyway.
If I tell you a story about me, it will not be made up.
But, if: You ask. I answer. I don’t elaborate.
Huh. Chances are…
I’m a liar.