Everyone seems to lie, because the truth’s too painful. My mother and father l, by trying to work out a marriage that was doomed from the beginning. My sister pretends she isn’t hungry. My mother lies about the man she loves, the man that’s not my father. So where do I stand? Do I lie and pretend I’m happy? Do I admit that I’m not happy and I need professional help, although I’m pretty sure I’m beyond that? Do I keep on saying I’m just tired, that I’m stressed? I’ve been doing this for too long, we all have. Do I lie again, to myself, in hope that someday I’ll believe my lies, and I won’t have to just carry this deathening facade?