A Trip through Spacetime

In The Beginning

I've lied to myself my whole life. As soon as I was capable of thinking for myself, I began to lie. Anything I had to do, anyone I had to become, I'd lie that I already am.
I'd lie that I like certain things, that I hate certain others that I am somebody. And slowly I forgot myself, and just became the lie. The line between the truth and the lies blurred so badly even the memory of its existence was erased.
And then I lied myself into love. I lied so well it became the truth, because I lied about who I loved. I twisted and perfected that lie so well that I feel in love with it, and by extension, her.
And to my credit, that lie was very, very well built. But 2 people together can lie to each other only for so long, and 2.5 years later, the truth, crack by crack, finally shone through.
The lie ended, but the love for that lie remained, festering. A warning. A scarecrow. Stay away from love. Stay away from lies.
I made that warning so potent, that anything resembling that love I start fearing is a lie, and anything that isn't a lie I can't believe is love.
I'm so terrified of lying to myself that I have become skeptical of every truth. I doubt reality itself and I doubt who I am.
Which has led to my search for answers. For irrefutable truths about myself. To learn who I am
Everything else is secondary