"stick And Stones May Hurt My Bones, But Words Will Never Hurt Me"
Yeah, definetly sticks and stones may hurt or even break bones, but I think that words may hurt that muscle that lives inside our chests: out heart. But what even hurts most, is when words are not by the hands with action. Because believing the "I'll always be there for you", or the classic "I'll always love you", and suddenly realizing that those words blew away with the winter wind, well that may hurt forever. I think that the truth hurts once, but the lie hurts forever. I have lived this 2 times in my life. The first time someone lied to me, and that trully afected me was when my dad got sick. This was 2 years ago. My dad had a hart attack, which brought kidney and liver failure. He was in the hospital for several months, under drugs and constant operations. After my dad got out from the clinic, he had psicological aftermaths. I have 3 more sisters, and 2 brothers, which are waaaaaaaaaaaaaay older than me. My parents are divorced, and my family had a rough time going through my dad's sickness. Well, after my dad came out of the hospital, I could not to see him. He never called, and my mom didn't allowed to see me. I went through almost 6 months not knowing about him. He was my best friend, and suddenly he became a stranger. It got stucked in my head the idea that my dad just didn't love me anymore, as now one provided me of an explanation of what was going on. After those 6 moths, me and my dad return to having a daughter-dad relationship, though things were'nt the same. I never got an explanation about what was going on with my dad during those months, but I decided to let go of that. Until 2 months ago, I heard a conversation my brothers were having about my dad being "psicologically ill". My brothers took my dad's phone away, his credit cards, his car, because being under drugs in the hospital for soo long caused him a temporary brain damage. So, I went through 6 months of my life thinking that my dad abandoned me. Thou I was the younger among my brothers, they never really payed me any attention when my dad got sick, and I respect that because he is their's dad too. But it would have been much easier if they have told me the thruth at once, so I could have lived those months more easily. My dad and my other siblings do not get along at all, so maybe they wer'e kinda jealous, which I undestand. But their attitude was selfish. And, that lied hurt, or not telling me the truth, made those t6 months the worst months ever. I got through a depresion, with I overcame a year ago. But the truth would have made things much more easy. The second time someone lied to me that way, is something I believe I am not confortable with talking yet, cause it still hurts a lot. Well, so, actions are trully more important than words. The fact that my dad dissapeared was much hurtfull than the fact that he was mentally ill. The fact that my whole family kept in silence was much hurtfull than the words I hear that afternoon 2 moths ago.