I was wearing my headphones, with my music turned up way too loud even the dog downstairs can hear it. You know, emo stuff, the kind of songs that made and still make me feel good. Not only because I’m an emo kid, but also because they were the songs that made me feel like there were people with even  crappier lives than mine. Ha!

I was singing (or was I shouting?)  my heart out when my phone vibrated. Ha! Somebody texted me today, I’m not a loser! Somebody remembered me! I was really hoping it wasn’t 8888 or 4438.

I had to pick my jawbone off the floor when I saw that the message was from you.  I didn’t have the chance to ask how you got my new digits because I had to read the message again to make sure whether or not the universe was just playing some awkward cosmic joke against me.

Wow, you want to talk? But what good is talking if you are just gonna lie to me?

Oh, come on. I know you would, just as much as you had.  At first, it was just tiny white lies: responses to questions like “Are you okay?” whenever we were in the middle of the conversation and you seemed to be zoned out, politely nodding at the right time but not actually listening. No, change that.  I was in the middle of a conversation and you were just physically present in the same place with me. You started saying white lies, like when you said that phones weren’t allowed in your hospital just so you had the excuse not send me even a single  text message.

Then you began to lie in earnest. You’d smile at our churchmates and tell them, when they asked, that we were going strong. You lied about your days off, you lied about why you’re not attending church services, you lied about not leaving, you lied about not lying to me, you lied about needing some time alone when in fact you wanted to spend your time with her, you lied about needing time and space, when in fact you wanted not only space; you wanted space away from me. And you lied about her.

Fine. You didn’t tell me about this girl (her name was Christine, right?) and I had to find out from someone else. You totally forgot that a woman’s instinct is, most of the time, better than a man’s excuse. I remember, you were so hell-bent on denying even when you got caught. Your lying abilities would shame even the best liars in the world. You didn’t tell me but it was still a lie; it was a lie of omission.

Truth hurts but that doesn’t give you the license to lie.

Yes. I remember you said that you were trying to protect me from hurting any further. Protect me? Well, that’s not your call to make.  I deserve the truth; everybody does.

Sorry isn’t a verb so you can’t just expect it to fix things for you. So I deleted your message just as easily as you’ve deleted me from your life.

Are you sure you want to delete this message?
OK.