The Man Who Lied to My Face

My thanks to the man who lied to my face. His sniggering tone and that smirk he showed me made me feel deep inside those recesses of my intuition the falseness of his words. He could not fool me–but I would not be fooled into false understanding. I sought out sources stronger than his sordid sounds and confirmed my suspicions: That to my face he had spoken with such falseness not even the devil himself would have found it fit to speak.

My thanks to the man who lied to my face. He steeled my reserve and made me know that in this innocent world where great things happen to good people, and the punishable meet their fate in solitude, I know now that I have all I will ever need housed inside me. I need not his hand in mine. I need not his support to back me. I need not his rancid followers or his spoiled sisters and broken brothers. I need not his help to achieve my ends.

My thanks to the man who lied to my face. Nothing more of late has compelled me to act as has this righteous indignation I felt in his presence. This anger I harbor toward him shall soon pass–shall be released of my own accord for I shall not give unto him power over me. But I shall harness this indignation, this urgency and intensity. I shall harness it for all that is good and just in this world and I shall fight against his kind and those like him with more fervor than I have ever have before.

My thanks.

In trying to pull me down, you have only lifted me up.

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5 thoughts on “The Man Who Lied to My Face

  1. I think we’ve all felt this way at some time, but you express it so well. Use your indignation for the right ends, and be forgiving–it will release any hold he has over you! Peace…

    • Thank you for your kind response. Forgiveness is challenging, but release is peaceful. The most curious part is that even though I feel calm on the surface, I know somewhere deeper his actions have left a scar of anger upon my soul. How can I let that heal if I can’t even find where it is?

      • I have a similar relationship (that left a scar), but I’ve managed to let it remind me to be wary of being hurt in the same way, Then I do the HARDEST thing, and I pray for her well-being. What an exercise that is!

      • Last time I realized how deeply he’s angered me, I tried–as I always try first–to be rational about it. There’s no reason I should be so vehemently angry: It’s simply his nature to be so deceptive and scheming, and after a month, I’ll never have to deal with him again. But it lingers. And rationalism doesn’t heal emotional wounds. It’s something I need to meditate on further, truly figure out what about it has angered me so, and then work towards healing that. I’m almost certain he is not the problem. It’s something deeper than that.

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