The Point Where Lies and Truth Intersect

I'd like to know a true story; I'd like to be told a true story. Because all of the stories that everyone tells me now are fiction. You were not abused as a child and you were never anorexic.

So why do you say you were?

Maybe I'm wise beyond my years or maybe I'm too ignorant to bear. Maybe sometimes I'm both. But at least I know who I am.

Mommy spanking you when you were 4 doesn't count. Not eating for two days doesn't either.

Or do you mean no harm? Do you forget what actually happened? Have you convinced yourself that what you lied about when you were 10 is now the truth? Or is the memory so real but so distant, that when you are sitting there, twirling your hair and ignoring the research paper your supposed to be working on, you are not thinking about it? Are you actually thinking about the football game coming up on Saturday night, or the concert you are going to next month?

I can't tell anymore. I'm too frustrated to even want to tell anymore, because it takes up too much time and energy to catch someone in their lie. And even if I did, I know you'd never admit to it.

Little glass penguins given to you by old friends don't matter anymore. Neither does the brand new stereo your father gave you for no reason. Because you've reached that point, the point where lies and truth intersect. And that's a tough spot to get out of.

Don't disappoint your fans, though. They love talking about you when you're not around. They love whispering about your private life and what they love even more is when you confront them, they lie right to your face.

Just like you did to them.