To Tell A Lie

Why do people tell lies? A glimpse of my opinion. Please R&R.

TO TELL A LIE

I may be rare, but I cannot tell a lie. I, quite frankly, am afraid. I’m afraid of my conscience. I’m afraid of being caught and not knowing how to get out of it. I’m afraid of disappointing people. I’m afraid of the inevitable follow-up lies that must be told to protect the original. I’m afraid of forgetting the lie and double-talking myself into trouble.

Why, I ask, must people tell lies? It seems if they were the people they wished they were, they wouldn’t need to tell them. For instance, if someone lies to hide their whereabouts, then they were really somewhere they weren’t supposed to be in the first place. Why were they there? They were probably doing something either against their morals, or the morals of a relationship they are a part of.

Perhaps these people are trying to avoid doing something that someone needs them to do. I remember reading somewhere that you should help your brothers in their time of need. To me, a lie in this case is telling the person that they (and their project) are not worth your time and are meaningless to you.

My biggest aggravation is being told a lie. If someone is such a coward that they cannot come forth with the truth, then I don’t want to be associated with that person. If a person is ashamed of what they have done, they must have known it was wrong before they did it. Why did they do it in the first place? That aside, I would rather hear the truth than some off-the-wall concocted story and look like a fool.

“Oh,” you say, “there’s the untold lie.” Absolutely. If one has engaged in unethical activities, and the topic never comes up, it’s still a lie. It’s much worse, I think, for the husband and wife. Why? The secrets. They can destroy a marriage. Behaviors change. Eyes shift. Space grows where there was once cuddling. Ah, to tell a lie. Is it really worth it?