Lying was inevitable because it was the only way with you. It became so routine that I'd lie even when I didn't have to. Like when you asked what I had for lunch I would say "pork loin" when it was actually "chicken with gravy."
Because I had a strict curfew and because I wasn't allowed to leave the school grounds, my date had to sneak my out of the school gym. (The levels of humiliation I had to sink to just to cover up a healthy teenage life!) We held hands. We went a hotel. We went to a bar. He smelled my hair. I ordered a Martini because it sounded nice and all the boys at the table held their breaths while I took a sip.
You didn't think anything was amiss because I made it back to school in time for my pickup time. How, you might ask? Well, he drove like the devil in his monster car and I think, because of his monster engine, I came.
I'm telling you this now, Mama, because I never got to. Because I don't need to lie to you anymore. And I'm sorry if I'm incoherent and if this isn't really coming out the way I want it to. I love you and I'm sorry I had to lie to lie to you about what I had for lunch, or who I was with and where.
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