I lie to myself everyday of my life. From the moment I wake up and look in the mirror I start each day by consoling myself that the lines on my face are well earned indicators of the character I've developed. Because I can't bear to accept them as constant reminders of the youth that's rapidly fading and the dreams that are dying with it.

I lie to myself every time I suppress the incidents in my past rather than face the pain that accompanies them. I lie to myself every time I remind myself that I'm lucky to be where I am rather deal with the truth that I've failed to accomplish what I set out to do. I lie to myself as I write ridiculous justifications on this very web site rather than deal with the vulnerability the truth of my feelings would bring.

And what's worse is that I lie to those who love me. Every time I retreat to the safety of my silence instead of speaking what's in my heart. I cringe when people praise my strength, not knowing the cowardice that is at my core.

Every day that goes by those lies compound. Every day that I allow them to comfort my fears. Every day that I pass in their security. Until the day comes when I have to acknowledge that I'm no longer real. And that I've no one to blame but myself.