False Bravado

gorilla-loroparque-blackwhite-112108-h

I told a lie.

I told it multiple times.

I told it over and over. I told it ten times, one hundred times. If I told it once, I told it a thousand times. I must have said it a million times. I told it infinity times infinity.

I told a fib. I told a tall tale. I told a cock-and-bull story. I did a song and dance. I told a whopper.

I falsified information. I misrepresented the facts. I perjured myself.

I told a little white lie. I told a whole pack of lies. I lied down with dogs and picked up some fleas. I lied like a rug. I lied in wait. I lied in ruins. I lied at death’s door.

I told it with a look. I told it through my teeth. I told it with a smile.

I told it in a whisper. I mentioned it in casual conversation. I shouted it from the rooftops. I told it to the ends of the earth. I told it to the moon and back. I declared it to the heavens.

I put it mildly. I put it bluntly. I told it to the best of my ability. I told it with piss and vinegar. I told it with vim and vigor.

My lie was an all-out effort. It spared no effort. It was a last-ditch effort.

I told it at full strength. It was my main strength. It was my weakness. It did not know its own strength. It was my pillar of strength.

My lie kept the home fires burning. It was fired up. It was fired upon. It added fuel to the fire. It spread like wildfire. It fought fire with fire.

My lie was a force of habit. It was out in force. It was full force. It was forced down my throat. It was a force to be reckoned with.

My lie was idolized — customized — publicized. It vitalized — galvanized — agonized.

My lie has been an open secret. A trade secret. My lie has been safe with me.

I told it to my friends. I told it to my co-workers. I told it to my neighbors. I told it to my pastor. I told it to my family. I told it to acquaintances. I told it to strangers.

I told it to myself.

My lie has reached to the sky. It has been out of reach. It has reached its boiling point. Has it reached its conclusion?

If the truth be told, it’s the moment of truth. Can I handle the truth — the naked truth, the gospel truth, the honest-to-God truth?

Here’s the truth:
He died. He’s gone.

Here’s the lie:
I’m fine.


Winner of the @Medium writing prompt contest

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s