Lies. More and more of it. Like a deck made of cards. Hiding the truth. Always. Do we lie to protect ourselves and the ones we love? Or is it because it's easier than telling the truth? The truth that you know is going to hurt?
The drafts folder of your inbox, however, tells a different story. Unsent mail overflowing. The ones that refrained you from hitting that send button. Is it because some people simply do not deserve to know your truth? But there it nestles, among spam mail and meaningless correspondence. All that you have told but not been heard.
You don't hit the send button. Not yet, a voice whispers in your head. But nor do you have the heart to delete it. Someday, maybe. Nobody said that speaking the truth would be easy. It's got to be done, all the same. Even if it means standing alone.