The Lies We Tell.

"How many people have you, yanno, uh, had sex with?"
I used to avoid this question like the plague. Who wants to answer this?! Not me. Not. Me.

I have learned that in some cases it's mere curiosity, well... that's what it is when I actually take the time to ask. I've only asked partners that I feel comfortable around and that know my asking is out of pure curiosity.

The one time I remember being asked this question and knew pure judgement would come after was with a recent ex. I lied. The lie came out so fast I couldn't stop it. He was a virgin and I was, well, not. Even with my -significantly lower than the real number- number I caught his gasp. "But I loved them all." Amber, STOP LYING TO THIS GUY. My mouth was working wonders that my real life couldn't hold accountable. Oh how many issues lying can cause. It was a sudden downfall in a nearly pure relationship. I was suddenly a liar.

From that day forward the fact that I lied a mere three days into being with a seemingly nice guy was like a sign that hung in front of my face when I looked at him. There were times I thought about confessing, even after we had broken up. Many times I wanted to say it during a fight and hope that the fight outweighed the number I just gave him. I never did. To this day he still believes that little lie and I think it's best it stayed that way, but I know how that lie affected me and my ability to really be his friend, which makes being his girlfriend even harder.

I hate lying. I hate that I did it. I hate that it was my first reaction.