Why Does The Truth Hurt Novels & Stories

She was sure of that. Tom eased off of her embrace, sad eyes almost void of anything. The faint pink hues splattered on his face were the only signs of life in him. "Truth is..." he trailed off. It was clear he was undergoing a mental battle as if trying to remember something. "Truth is like a wound, it hurts but cures," he finally uttered, confidently. To say she wasn't flabbergasted would be a huge falsehood. Zaphrina blinked a couple of times before shaking her head lightly as if she had just realized herself in Saturn.

His voice was low, almost a promise, almost a threat. “Don’t,” I whispered. He didn’t answer. The door shut behind him. And I sank to the floor, my back against the wall, my hands covering my face. Tears came hot, unstoppable. Not because I wanted him back. Not because I forgave him. But because I hated the truth. The truth always hurt , it feels like a stab to the chest. Nothing comes close Also hated that the more he stayed, the harder it became to remember why I ever left.

The truth hurts, but it hurts even more when it is told to someone who is a victim of lies. “Fuck all of you, I am done!"

The pain, the horror, the sick feeling of being exposed. “That was you,” I whispered. He just watched me, the hint of a smile still on his lips. “Why?” I asked, tears stinging my eyes. He shrugged, almost gentle. “You needed to see things as they were. Sometimes the truth hurts, but it sets you free.” I wanted to scream at him, to hit him, to throw him overboard and watch him sink. But all I could do was stand there, the weight of the blanket anchoring me in place.

He is my brother. "Why, Sebastian? To be honest, when you first uttered those words, no actually when you shouted those words at me, I was angry and livid. I even left the house writing a letter. However, later I understood that everything you said was actually true. I don't even know why you are apologising to me." I told him back. I don't even know anymore. All they said was actually true even if it hurts. It hurts but when does truth not hurt. The world is filled with lies, maybe that's why people who are happy are the people who are in false understanding. Because when the truth comes, you will be destroyed. And for me it was at a very young age.

“These two have been meeting in barns for months. Vivian threw herself at Vince and ruined our relationship.” "Lie!" Perry looked at Kathleen in disbelief. "How dare you call my daughter a liar!" It was Judd Randall who stepped to his daughter's side. He was a retired general of the Calvary, and still carried his body straight and proud despite his permanent injuries. He knew of his daughter’s indiscretion and condition, he had supported her idea to tell Vince. After all the father had a right to know. After this, though, he would not support a forced marriage. There were other ways to go about this. His sharp yes shushed Kathleen.

In her mind, she explored all the sides of the issue: the harshness of the disclosure, the pleasure in it, the question if in fact the pleasure can be a good reason for the pain, the question if the pain is, in this case, something the person deserves. That is what she went for. Not for revenge or not only for revenge, that is. Because of the exact principle, her mother after all had only showed her through her own life, never even uttering the word principle: the truth was more valuable even the discomfort of telling it. The people who were wronged deserved to know the truth even when the truth was painful. And the other option silence complicity the easy upkeep of a pretty lie brought abou

The sentence lands like a punch straight to the gut. And just like that, a whole bunch of messy, shitty truths come crashing in — ugly, sharp-edged truths — gripping me hard and mercilessly. The kind that don’t ask permission. The kind that rearranges your insides. It grips my balls like a vise. Was I wrong? Fucking shit. I stare at him, desperately looking for something — a twitch, a lie, a crack — anything that justifies the damage I’ve done. But his face gives me nothing. Except his eyes.

“I gave so much of myself. I’ve been kind, quiet, and grateful. But what did that ever get me?” Camille folded her hands in her lap. “That’s a valid question.” I looked up at her. She held my gaze. “What answer would make you feel better?” I had none. “I don’t know who I am,” I whispered. “I don’t remember anything. But I know I wasn’t born to be someone’s copy.” Silence again. Camille spoke slowly. “Sometimes the truth hurts more than the lie. So we cling to the lie. Until everything goes wrong.”

♠ 𝑻𝒓𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒇𝒖𝒍. 𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒓𝒕. 𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆𝒔, 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒘𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒇𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒊 𝒓 𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒐 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚.