Why do people that we care about hurt us? Why do they lie and tell stories?

“I only hid it from you with the best of intentions.” If I had a dollar for every time someone said that to me, I would probably be a millionaire by now. You had the best of intentions? Certainly not mine.

We have heard it all before. “I was scared to tell you the truth.” “I didn’t want you to be mad.” “I was afraid that I would lose you as a friend.” “I was only thinking of you.” “I wanted to tell you.” “I swear I was going to tell you, I was just waiting for the right time.”

First of all, I can tell you that there is no such thing as a ‘right time.’ Second of all, if someone truly loves you, then why would they lie to you? Third, how would you feel if someone lied to you the same way you lied to them?

Everyone lies, including myself, but I never thought that I took it to the extent of others. Saying that you’re busy when in reality you’re going to watch Netflix for hours is extremely different than lying about what you did with other people behind someone’s back. We all have that one person that we tell everything to. They know all of our secrets and all of the details of our lives. You probably told them about others who have hurt you. You told them about people who have lied to you and the physical pain that came with it. You instilled a great amount of trust and confidence in that person, only to be betrayed by them because they too were lying to you.

It has been months since I found out that someone that I loved and trusted with my life deceived me. When I think about the night that I found out, I still get upset. I remember the sound of his voice. It seemed like he wanted to see me hurt, and he threw it in my face to make me feel bad. I can still feel the awful cramping in my stomach, and as much as I say that I’m okay, I’m not. I am still mad, and I thought that I would be over all of this by now, but I can’t help but overthink. How could the one person that I trusted everything with lie straight to my face? How could he keep such a secret for so long when I had already asked for the truth?

When we are lied to, we not only question the person who lied, but we also question ourselves. What did I do wrong? Was I not good enough for them to tell me the truth? Was I not worth the truth?

I opened a can of worms. I sat down with a few friends, and I told them that I didn’t know how to get over the deception, that I felt stuck. I soon realized that we all had a story to tell, and no matter how long it had been, we were all stuck. Aisha had a friend that always lied to her about the smallest things, but how was she supposed to believe her if she was used to her being a liar. Jen spent three days believing that her best friend committed suicide because a guy decided that it would be a good idea to lie about the death of a friend. She never forgave herself for believing him, and she never forgave him for what he did. A girl told Aaron a lie about another friend, and he’s been wondering what else she lied about ever since. When I asked Josh about people who have lied to him, he simply said, “People don’t lie to me because I’m good at revenge.” He’s one of the lucky ones, but that proves the point. Even the possibility of lying skews our trust in people.

Do we have signs on our faces saying “Lie to us”? Is there a reason the truth isn’t always told to us?

I have said this time and time again, but our actions toward other people can affect them for the rest of their lives. The person who lied may have been able to move on, and that is great, but they need to realize what they left behind. I don’t know how long it will take me to be okay. How much longer will I be mad? I honestly don’t know because it was the ultimate betrayal for me. I don’t know how to come back from something like that, but I do know that I will at some point. Some of my friends were lied to years ago, and they are still upset by it. Maybe we don’t ever get over someone special lying to us. Maybe it just becomes a part of our past that we are forced to live with. That’s just it though. It is in the past, and I can’t change what happened. I don’t have to forgive or forget, but I do need to live my life in the hopes that someday I won’t be mad anymore.