I will not ask you any more questions and save you the trouble of lieing. I will give you a chance to tell me the truth. No, I will give you another chance to tell me the truth. If you don't take it, I will believe your lies as your version of the truth. I have no alternative. No, it's not love that takes away my alternatives; I don't think I'm in love with you anymore. It's the exhaustion, the futility of making you see my side of the picture, of realising you're too meek to accept your mistakes, too scared I will not forgive them again that stops me from confronting you again.
And anyway, you have taken away my right to ask you any questions. My mistrust apparently bothers you, but you don't know how to win over my trust, you don't know how easy it is to be honest with me and fool me still. You believe you will be lucky enough to be sly and never get caught, don't you? You forget you weren't so lucky in the past.
If there is nothing, why do you feel the need to lie? Why do I feel that the way you look at her is not different? Why do I ignore my instincts that tell me I'm a blockade in the way?
Tell me I'm wrong. But tell me the truth please.
And anyway, you have taken away my right to ask you any questions. My mistrust apparently bothers you, but you don't know how to win over my trust, you don't know how easy it is to be honest with me and fool me still. You believe you will be lucky enough to be sly and never get caught, don't you? You forget you weren't so lucky in the past.
If there is nothing, why do you feel the need to lie? Why do I feel that the way you look at her is not different? Why do I ignore my instincts that tell me I'm a blockade in the way?
Tell me I'm wrong. But tell me the truth please.
