I'm Too Cool To Have A Title

Why do we piece together a string of lies to hide from the truth? Thinking it will make it better, it only hurts worse in the end. Why do we make reality seem better than it truely is? Why do we insist we live in reality, when few actually do? Why are we not honest with not only the people around us, but also ourselves?

I've never been one to face reality lightly. I always stuck to my dream world, as it was much more comforting than the world I was really living in. Not letting anyone know the true story. Always keeping a smile on my face. The dream world made me happy. I wanted to be happy. And I made myself believe I was happy. I assured myself on this. But as I slowly let my guard down, the truth finally sunk in. I've suffered more than I should have, much of it only my own fault. I concealed the truth by only hurting myself even more. Anything to keep my life a secret, I would do. Hearing myself speak the truth, hearing it from my own mouth, was more painful than anything. More painful than the slicing of my skin. More painful than the finger down my throat. More painful than the countless names I've had to endure from the people trying to break me down. But they weren't the ones that broke me down. It way my lies. It was my dream world. It was my denial. It was my constant reassurance. It was me.