There's no point in lying to me

I sit back and watch you lie through your teeth and it’s all I can do to suppress a wide grin. I should be angry, I know. I should be blowing my top by now. You know what I’m talking about – full Samuel L. Jackson mode, ready to “strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger” and whatnot.

I should, and you fully deserve it, too.

Truth is, though, watching you squirm is just too delicious. I can almost hear your brain working at full tilt, mass-producing flimsy lies and bullshit excuses. You repeat the simple question I asked you again and again, as if that would be enough to buy you some time.

I sit back and listen as your mouth spews one improbable story after the other, each sentence putting another nail in the coffin you’re building for yourself.

I have to admit, you do have a creative mind. You’re a fast thinker and an even faster talker. Every one of your bluffs is more elaborate than the last one – though still not enough to work on me. Not anymore, sweetcheeks.

See, I kind of turned the tables on your little game, and this is the last round we’re going to play before I flip them altogether. And if you think you’ll be able to talk your way out of this one, then you clearly haven’t been paying enough attention.

I asked you a simple question and would be happy with a simple answer.

Yet you are so preoccupied with crafting the perfect lie to put me back to sleep, you’re missing a simple, crucial point; this is one of those questions that you find the balls to ask only when you already know the answer.

So yes, I know. I’m interested in the answer per se, rather  than in how you deliver it. How much of a fool you think I am. How much bullshit you think I can buy before I realize something is off.

From what you’ve blurted so far, you must believe I have the gullibility of a two-year old and boiled cabbage for brains. Very flattering for the both of us, really.

It’s alright, you can stop now. Let me tell you how things are.

It’s not your sluttiness that I can’t abide with. I pretty much knew what I was getting into from day one – the first date pornstar sex was kind of a dead giveaway.

It’s the fact that you underestimate my intelligence I find infuriating. The fact that, after all this charade, you’re still standing there, stuttering out bald faced lies and making an ass out of yourself.

And for what? Your ego?

If there was still a way to save some face, you just ruined it with your pointless, pathological dishonesty. You fucked up, made some wrong choices, yes. And instead of showing at least some dignity and taking responsibility for your actions, you opt to stand there and lie your ass off to me.

No, no, don’t even try to explain yourself. Just shut up.

In the end, all I asked for was a little honesty, but no. You had to reflexively, compulsively lie about every single thing, didn’t you?

If there was still a shred of respect for you left in me, it’s gone.

And so am I.