You told them a lie because you were ashamed. Because you were sick and sad and you hated yourself for that.

You told them a lie because you didn’t want them to be ashamed of you. Because you knew what you had done was wrong but you couldn’t bear to see the disgust in their eyes, couldn’t bear to have them recoil from your touch.

Because you knew that their inevitable rejection would destroy you.

So you lied.

And once you told the lie, you couldn’t take it back. It squatted in your heart like a toad, blinking yello eyes and leaving a slimy coating on your memory.

It’s something so small now, so insignificant. Most of the time you forget about it completely. It has no relevance on who you are or on your relationship with that person. But every now and then the toad hiccups and you are reminded.

You would wish more than anything in the world that you had just been honest. Wish that you had just taken the risk, told the truth and let the chips fall where they may. But you didn’t and there is no going back. No way to tell the truth now without highlighting how long you deceived them, how long you lied to them.

What would you do?