That's not my name.

I'm pretending I don't care.

I'm being told that it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but somehow, it is. I keep hearing it and I keep making up the worst in my head and I'm really not prepared to let myself fall that hard.

It's all about the promises and those acts of faith, right?

Not so tight.

Because I have known you for enough time to know exactly when you're lying to my face, and I know myself well enough to know that I could keep swallowing lies until I drown on them.

And yet, I still trust you.

I don't know if I trust myself.

But it's better than the alternative.

Or so I'm pretending.