Seeing The Sun At MidnightPrologue
They say that if you can lie to yourself long enough, and enough times, you will believe that it's true, that it really happened, that it was reality. In theory, that should apply to when someone else is telling you that lie as well, when there is nothing whatsoever to contradict what they tell you. You must believe it. What choice do you have, when you cannot think of anything that said person would have to gain by telling you this lie? This choice is pressured even more by the absolute guilt, pain, and sorrow that is brought by the lie. What if you knew that it had happened because of you, because of something that you had nearly forced someone you loved to do, to let you yourself do?
Would you still believe it?
Denial itself is a strong state of mind to be in, being one of the stages of grief. You simply do not, will not, cannot accept the lie as truth. You scream and cry at nothing, everything, that it should have happened to you, not them. It is all too horrible. But at the same time, too possible. You know that it could easily have happened, despite the fact that it is so terrible. You know that no matter how horrible it seems to you, it could be one of the sweetest revenges, one of the most exquisite feelings someone else had. Yet again, you know that said vengeance should be directed solely at you, not anyone else. The vengeance is truly your fault.
But with me, I had never even doubted that it was false. Denial is a strong thing to humans, but I am no longer human. I accepted the lie, I believed it was true.
Now that I knew it wasn't, who could I believe?