Excerpt II

"Human beings are liars. We're never honest when it's important, because it's important and honesty is hard. We constantly opt to escape. Our mouths are ashen with wear because everything that comes out is an avoidance of truth. You could run into someone you once loved on the street, and they can say they do not know you or do not remember you and that KILLS you inside because you believe them. But humans are liars. We lie everyday, unnecessarily. What they do not tell you is that everyday they think of you and everyday they battle with themselves for the right to move on and they see you and leave you and you feel insignificant and lost. If only human beings were honest there would be pain but no suffering. "No, I do not love you." "Yes, I have always loved you." "I secretly fucking hate you." "I secretly fucking adore you." Up front, deal with it now. It's harder, but I think we should all just fucking man up and tell our truths.
But I won't if you won't."
Her eyes were little tea saucers with blue and white china flowers. He looked away, not knowing whether he belonged in the "secret hate" or "secret love" compartments. He only knew which one she belonged to. He did love her, the way someone loves a beautiful chaste rabbit goddess, with stars for hands and rivers for hair. He loved her because she was above him, even though she collapsed in tears and shied away from his touch most days. He loved her from a distance, like one loves the sun. One wouldn't ask the sun for it's hand in marriage or try to fuck the sun, it's impossible. So was she. She glowed on his life and he knew that when she was gone it would be winter in his heart again but he also knew that was the changing of the seasons and that it was the way things were. He didn't need her. He enjoyed her warm light more than he cared to express, but he did not need her. He was tired of her needing him. He was tired of her always being tentative, shy, concerned, self conscious. He wanted her to burst into the light she was and blind everybody but she denied the light like a plague within her skin, like a downfall. She wasn't afraid of inadequacy, she was afraid of her brilliance. He knew this. She didn't. He left her with a promise he intended to break, and knew it wasn't the only thing that would be broken. In this way, he became a liar again. He lied with everything in him because he believed it would be better for her. He was sure she would be better after.
The thing about lies is that they destroy. The thing about teachers is they aren't supposed to know they are teachers. When they know, they cease being teachers and become cruel puppeteers with a tear tattoo by their eye and a grin on their faces. She knew this from experience. As he left her, with a promise she knew he intended on breaking, she smiled and began cemented the walls inside her chest back up. Silently, her shoulders slouched and she sighed because more than she was hurting and more than she was confused, she was exhausted and as he drove away she was mostly relieved. She too was a liar.