The truth will set you free

But it will break your bones
I've learnt.

But the lightness of it sears me, like a heavy weight unloaded, liked a voice strangled at the base of my throat that finally comes through. It felt so egotistic. I felt like doing what was right for me teared down some things for her, I felt like I degraded personal moments that I had no right to touch. It made me so fearful but once it started there was no stopping it, I thirsted for this moment of liberation.
  How do you do right by someone? To which degree should you? Do you protect and lie and how far of a lie is a protection, if it is at all? I am an excellent liar - I can weave a story thoroughly, organizing all the details in my head. But I choose not to do so to people I hold in high regard. So when she asked, I answered. I knew I didn't have to. But there was no reason to dance around something and play along for an audience that consisted of no one else but us.
  It felt surreal and perhaps it is vain and naive to say so but in a way it made me feel closer to her. Not just my being truthful but her reaction as well. So many things shared and I was scared that with every passing moment I was tearing down something else for her. I wanted to explain somehow that all those moments she lived were not fake or meaningless, they were not copies she was handed over, a show repeated spectator after spectator. That she was there for a reason. That there was a reason he chose to share them with her, even if he has shared them with others. Even if some things he shared them with me.
  Phrases and words have stuck in my head, like wooden splinters piercing my brain, it's strange, I feel the need to protect them both in a way, but they're not powerless. I feel the need to protect what they had as well. Don't demolish it and pick it apart, I can't quite explain it.
  I can't explain anything. I chase the words and I fail them, or just language, an array of symbols, is just too poor a label to express all that bursts inside, burning coals that explode with the smallest of emotional caress.
  Maybe I'm too strange for my head at times.