You want to believe what you want to believe. You want it so much, and in order to believe it you have to trust them. They tell you something, they tell you lots of things, and: they tell you the thing that you want to believe. That they are late because of traffic. That they're irritable because it was a rough day at work. That they love you, even. Ohhh, you want it so badly. There is a part of you that stands back from it, that doubts, that doesn't think you can have anything you want and so if it looks like what you want it must be a lie. But it's so convincing, this lie, and you turn away from the light that would reveal it, you close your eyes when they kiss you so you can't see the truth of the lie, you lie to yourself almost as well as they do, until to be honest you don't see the seams any more between what you know must be true and what you wish would be. You try out different positions and convince yourself that they make you happy. They don't come home at night and they say it's not you it's me and they promise I love you you have to know that and we just need to talk and everything will be okay, and it is: they pour the honey of words all over you, the cracks are filled with this sweetness, and in that moment you believe again, you believe what you want to believe, because you want it so much.
On the other side of the story are the people you've been lying to, the people who trust you and look what it got them. Part of what you wanted to believe was that you were a truthful person, a good person, a person who believes in and exemplifies honesty and openness. And it starts small, a misleading gesture, a gift that wasn't your choice, and your lie is so small against the truth that you want to believe that it doesn't look like a lie at all, practically. Although it is. Part of what makes you uncomfortable is that even if you are being told the truth, and you're not sure, you know that what is coming out of your mouth is definitely lies.
And now what happens. Now you have to ask. Now the exquisiteness of what you believe has to be tested, because this is who you are: you are a person who can only take it on faith for so long. You'd rather be hurt by the truth than believe a lie, in the end. Who are you? you say. Do you really love me? Did you ever? And then you sit there, ice pack on your heart, and wait.