The Magic of the Morning Text

A good lie is in the details. It answers the question but quickly diverts to a new, semi-related topic, and fills up the empty space with charming confidence and a plethora of minute but crucial specifics. All punctuated with a wide, fleeting smile that says "Trust me, I trust you." I'm a master of the bogus tangent, the convincing air of the open book. I'm not really sure when it all happened, but my tactful dishonesty really arose to keep those who really cared for me at a safe distance. Ignorance is bliss. The disregard I felt for my own life was my little secret. A classic case of teenage invincibility. It's funny how just when I think I can't get much older, time passes and I do. I suppose at this point the truth is that I'm not an open book, but lying just isn't really my style anymore. And frankly, I'm surprised that it might be yours. I know a lot more than I let on. Most of it is unnecessary to mention, as you're just as new to my life as I am to yours. I guess none of it is really my business.

The morning text says you miss me. You're thinking of me. The morning text gives me a reason to get up and into the shower, and then to the coffee pot. Hello, lover. First thought, "If this is decaf I will shoot someone." Good morning, me. I pass on the magic.