I never lied as a kid.
I was the one everyone knew would take little to no disciplining, the one who was born mature.
How I let myself go, how I let myself change to accomodate someone in a negative way, I will never know.
And perhaps I'll never forgive myself.
I could never hate any of the people who illicited bad experiences in my life, simply because they've made me into a stronger person.
But complaining that I never did enough, that I've permeated your life in a negative way when we don't even talk, it makes no sense.
I'm not actively seeking to hurt anyone. I don't even talk to you anymore.
The difference is, I'm not a child anymore like I was when I knew you.
I don't care anymore.
People who can't get over the past, those who hold onto it and complain about it without actually trying to fix it, those are the people I will never give the time of day.
How could someone unwilling to make themself better for someone else's sake and for their own sake be appealing to speak to? To laugh with? To cry with?
They drag people down.
And I finally care about myself enough to root out the ones who need work. And I don't feel guilty.
I'm growing self esteem.
And the lies have expired.
For good.