Pieces of Me

The lies between us

The deeper I got with Lui, the more I noticed the subtle cracks in his charm. He’d often steer our conversations in circles, somehow always bringing them back to his own dreams, his ambitions. At first, I brushed it off, thinking it was just part of his free-spirited personality, but soon, I realized he was always shifting the focus away from me. I tried to ignore it, convincing myself that relationships could be one-sided sometimes, but a part of me knew it was more than that. It was as though he was crafting a version of himself for me to see, hiding parts of his life in the shadows.

Whenever I questioned him, Lui had a way of turning things around, making me feel like I was overthinking, like I was the one at fault for doubting him. It was subtle, a twist of words here, a deflection there, and before I knew it, I was the one apologizing for asking too many questions. He made me feel guilty for wanting clarity, for wanting to know more about the man I was growing close to. It was manipulation masked as affection, a tactic I was too blinded by emotion to see through at the time.

But there was something in his eyes, a darkness that lingered just behind his charm, that I couldn’t ignore. He’d disappear for hours, sometimes days, without explanation, and when he’d come back, he’d brush off my concerns with a smile and a laugh that made me feel foolish for even asking. I’d look into his eyes, trying to find answers, but all I saw was a man who knew how to keep his secrets well-guarded. My heart ached, but I was too deep in the illusion to pull myself out.

Lui was the master of half-truths, giving me just enough to keep me around but never enough to make me feel secure. Every time I tried to pull away, he’d reel me back in with a look, a touch, a whispered promise that things would be different. And I believed him, because I wanted so desperately for it to be true. I let myself be drawn into his web, even as I felt the threads tightening around me, trapping me in a cycle of hope and disappointment.

There were nights when I’d lie awake, replaying our conversations, trying to piece together the fragments of truth buried beneath his lies. I knew I was being used, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go. Part of me felt foolish, but the other part was addicted to the thrill of being with someone as complex and unpredictable as Lui. He’d ignited something in me, a need for intensity and passion that I couldn’t easily extinguish.

Lui was everything I should have stayed away from, but I kept coming back, drawn to the danger of it all. He knew exactly how to keep me hooked, feeding me just enough affection to make me stay, just enough hope to make me believe. And as much as I tried to convince myself that I was in control, I knew deep down that I was completely at his mercy.

In the end, I was left questioning myself more than I questioned him. I’d given so much of myself to someone who couldn’t give me the same in return, and yet, I kept hoping that one day, he’d see me the way I saw him. But that was the cruelest lie of all—the belief that he’d ever truly let me in.