I’ve had something weighing on my mind for my whole life. Something that has eaten away at me every day. Something that has ruined relationships with friends, family, and significant others. This thing is not easy to talk or write about. It’s not something that I generally do with any ill will towards anyone. It’s something that I often don’t realize I’ve done until later. It’s something I’ve done to probably everyone I’ve ever come in contact with. It’s doesn’t always start as a big thing, but often snowballs out of control before I know it. It’s often hard to keep track of all of it. It weighs on my mind all of the time. I am a liar. If you know me, I’ve lied to you. You may or may not have realized it. You may have known and just didn’t care. You may have been hurt and never spoke to me again, or it was strained and hard to talk to me again. You probably don’t trust me, and I’ve given you no reason why you should. You may hate me. You may feel sorry for me. You almost certainly don’t understand why I lie. Hell, I don’t understand why I do it most of the time. It is a problem, my problem, and I’m working to fix it. If I could make it up to the people I’ve hurt, I would. Not that you have any reason to believe me.