“Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies…”

This is actually me, lying to one of my best friends who planned to take a weekend off to the wine country. He’s supposed to fly in on Friday and stay at my place. Then we head out for Napa this weekend.

Financially, I may have been able to pull off this mini getaway since he’s paying for everything. I’m, however, not ready to cut a chunk out of my paycheck by taking 3 days off. My boss may have approved of it had I requested for it but I didn’t.

My hand is still in a brace, I still ache from the wound and I know I may not have fun…so won’t he. My best friend is also suffering from depression and as much as I miss him, I want to take care of my issues first.

So today, I told him that my boss didn’t approve of my requested schedule. LIE. I lied and he believed me. It’s true that I’m not off this weekend but I certainly didn’t request to be off. Yes, I feel awful but glad I was finally able to get it off my chest. My best friend loves to hang out with me as he did when he still lived in the Bay.

Now, he has lied to me quite many times in the past too. I’m not seeking redemption for myself but he’s lied to me so much in the past, I confronted him about it.

See, men and women lie. It’s not just men. We lie about so many things too, although maybe not in the same context as men do. It’s wrong, I know, but we all know that it’s often the only quick way to get out of a situation that makes us uncomfortable or uneasy.

If there is any place I wouldn’t dare lie, it would be at work. It sounds unfair BUT I cannot risk losing my job. If any, I want to be a better worker at my job. Come to think of it, lying to someone may mean that person isn’t that important in my life. I can lie to people but not to someone or something I don’t want to lose. It’s often that we lie because we want to keep that other person’s company BUT in reality, constant lying to the same person will eventually prove our worth. I’ve been there. When I was a kid, I lied to my parents and my siblings. I lost their trust in so many ways. The only reason they stuck with me is that because I proved to them that I can be what I tell them I want to be and of course, they’re my family and they love me.

My sister doesn’t trust me fully and I don’t blame her. I’ve made too many mistakes in my life that I’m ashamed of. She loves me anyway. I don’t trust my older brother because he, when he needed money, sold all my framed needlework which was in a display in our childhood home. He knew how valuable those were to me. He sold them without asking for my permission because he knew I would say no. One time, I was so angry that I told my sister to find who he sold them to and I will buy them back. Up to now, my work are in someone else’s house. My sister said that my brother won’t tell her. It took me a year or so before talking to my brother again. I’ve forgiven him but I will never forget.

My hand is now wounded as a fruit of all the needlework I did when I was young – but the result of all my handwork is gone.

Things like these can be depressing.


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