the Pinocchio in me

I’m going to tell you a lie. I know you’re disappointed that I would break the trust that we have worked so hard to establish. I know and I’m sorry, but this lie has to be told. It’s quite unavoidable. And it is the first time that I have so certainly lied to you. Oh, I’ve straightened out some curves before. I’ve made things a bit rosier when really they were just pink, but flat out lie? Me? Never. Until today. And so, I’ll tell you that I took out my Christmas tree weeks ago and that it is not in fact still in my living room where it’s dry rotting corpse is so dead that the breeze made by me walking through the room exerts such force that needles fall and those needles have to be vacuumed up every other day. There now, that’s better. My first lie is out of the way. I hope this will not evoke our first fight where you tell me that your trust is broken and that you are not sure that this relationship will last. In my defense, I warned you. I warned you about the lie and I’m certain that being in my head for as long as you have, you are bound to know that these things will happen, that Christmas trees may linger. It’s nothing really. It’s just the Pinocchio in me.

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