A piece of me

  I know that you know. You know that I know. I see no point in hiding behind the finger. But maybe this is the reason why I keep on losing: maybe I keep on getting beaten because I simply cannot understand nor play this twisted game misleadingly called life. I cannot make sense of the bizarre rules: whoever lies the most wins the big prize. No broken heart, no tears shed; just forge yourself as many masks as you can, hide as well as you can and forget there once existed a simple person called "yourself". 
  Picture me, if you can - a person who not only cannot lie, but has never told a single lie in 23 years - but just know that if you simply cannot imagine such a person exists and instead you may choose to think I am trying to deceive you, I won't hold any grudge. Just to give you an idea, if you entered a room and asked who farted, I will not hesitate to answer, if it was me - and I am a girl. Once a co-worker asked me how many men I have dated and the reward for giving her an honest answer were a suspicious glare and an outraged "Why do you have to exaggerate, it simply can't have been that many!" Well - what can I say, I was born curious and I see nothing wrong in satisfying my curiosity – if that doesn’t harm anyone, of course.
  You might think I am stupid and you cannot be more wrong. If I there is something I really take pride in, that's my sharp mind, but I have simply come to realize that what truly describes you is not the thing you love most about yourself, but the thing you hate most about others. I don't get mad at people for the simple reason of being stupid; not all my friends are that bright. No. What I find to be most despicable in the human character is the pointless need to lie.

 And that’s exactly what you do: you hide yourself behind towers of lies, hoping this will provide some kind of shelter to your restless heart. Not implicitly, not directly, yet you lie to me with every breath you take, every move you make takes away a tiny piece of you until you completely evaporate and become nothing. It may be my fault, it has to be, is the one thought that helps me fall asleep at night, but the truth is I am wrong; you have been lying to yourself since the moment you were born. 

  When I was a little girl, I didn’t enjoy spending time with other kids; instead, I would just cuddle on my bed, watch the clouded sky, longing for the rain to come and wash away my nervousness; I was an impatient kid, my mother used to say, always waiting for something to happen while not realizing that I was running out of time before even starting to truly live. What was the source of all this agitation, I have no clue, what I do know is how soothing the fast and raging summer showers used to feel. Time would just slow down and I could feel that life was indeed made out of every banal moment which we are always so eager to leave behind in favor of a special occasion. When it rained, I felt I belonged; when it rains, I feel you close.