It started as a small lie, just something to make my life sound a little better. But lies have a way of growing, don’t they? Before I knew it, I wasn’t just telling the lie—I was living it.
Now, I don’t know what’s real anymore. The past I made up has become more familiar than the truth I buried. People admire me for things I never did, trust me for things I never earned.
And I’m too deep in it now. If I tell the truth, I lose everything. So I keep lying. And sometimes, I wonder—will I ever find my way back to who I really am?
