fragments

Liar

This is very short but i could not for the life of me extend it so here you are!

for churrology the actual love of my life.

See you very s**n,
Love
X

                        
  Idfc/blackbear

Let me start with this: We all lie.

From your teacher in middle school to your parents to your friends to basically every human you've ever met or haven't.

We all lie.

The thing is, some lies are bigger than others.

Last week, I told Kirstie the sizing in the jeans department of urban outfitters had changed and that's why size 4 didn't fit her.
Was I lying? Yes, absolutely. Did I have bad intentions? No.

That's the difference between lies and liars. You have small white lies and then you have the other kind. Big and black and all in all terrifying.

Then again who am I to judge what's important and what's not you'll say.

Who am I to judge him when he looks me in the eye and lies?

I'm not God and I have no intention of playing him. Life isn't some kind of court that you can fix your issues in, and even if it was I wouldn't want to be the judge.

Life just happens and you watch, like a movie or a theatre play. Plain and simple.

Yes, theatre play. That's more like it.

We all put on pretty masks and play our parts and then when a different character comes on we go backstage and change. We become someone else. Maybe a lover, maybe an enemy, maybe a friend. Maybe just a pedestrian, someone passing by.

One way or another, we're all stuck in this big ass play called life and we all play a small role in each other's scenario
, know it or not.

At the end though, when the curtains drop, we take off our masks and come out for the applause and we show our real faces. That's the final jury for you, your final judgement.

The question is, are you directing your own play? Cause I'm for sure not directing mine.

If I was, I'd change the plot completely.

He'd fall in love with me, truly and utterly and the same way I fell for him.

And this time, he'd mean it.

He wouldn't look me in the eye and lie like he did.
He wouldn't play me and leave me.

But that's a very far from reality isn't it?

Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

I can't know anymore.

I can't know anymore when I'm drowning in the endless waters of his eyes, the lies pulling me down under the surface more and more each time until I reach rock bottom but I don't care. I never did.

Secretly, I love every single lie that comes out of his mouth and the way it holds me under. I don't miss oxygen and I don't try and fight for air.

That's what happens when you love deeply.

I wish for him to lie, words come out of my mouth like a prayer and he's the god.

And he listens and complies, puts me under water and keeps me there until I suffocate and then some. When I wake up, I ask for more and when he's not there I imagine him saying it.

"I love you"
"I miss you too"
"I really care Mitch, I do."

Hey Scott?
If you ever read this,
I wish for you to fall in love and not get loved in return.

You'll never get a worse wish than this.
Love,
Mitch.

*****

"Hey Mitch? What are you writing there?"

He looked at me and smiled and he was under my skin all over again.

"It's nothing, you wanted to talk?"

I turned and threw the paper in the trash, the water already up to my waist.