on lies

When you find out a lie, it’s a deep and insidious pain. It takes all the lived moments, the carefully woven tapestry of your reality, and rips a gaping hole in it. It pulls out threads you relied on, and unravels much more than the lie. You might question the liar’s integrity, but worse, you might question your own judgment, your own hold on the truth. The pain goes beyond the deception itself; the liar robs you of all the good pieces, too - now replaced with questions and gaps. And the lying leaves you with few tools to repair the damage; you may never have answers to sew your story back together. Only a thread of doubt, running into the past and into the future, that you can’t quite shake.