A Great Big Lie

If you were there, you would have seen smiling and laughing and friendship. But you weren't there, I was. And I saw symbolism everywhere I looked. I saw things that meant more figuratively than they ever could literally. And maybe if you were there, you would have seen this too. But you weren't. I was. So all you can do is take my word for it.

When I was younger, I came across the same dilemma, and now it was like a moment of fear trapped and recurring, still chilling me after so many years. But now I wasn't afraid. I went faster, leaning as far as I could to the side to stay balanced. To maintain control. Back then, stopping seemed like the only solution when the situation exploded beyond my ability. But now I know better. Now I know that sometimes you have to speed up before you can slow down.

There was symbolism everywhere. Maybe I put it there myself, in my mind. That's what a writer does, after all. They see, they interpret, and they re-create with reflective clarity. Occasionally they exaggerate meaning, or scenario, or character. But sometimes it's necessary to lie to the audience. It's unknowingly expected, because the truth never sounds right. It's dreary and dull and drawn out. Just trust me. I was there.