Why Does The Truth Hurt Novels & Stories

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.

♠ 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.

I didn’t know if I wanted the truth. Because the truth might ruin the one thing that still made me feel something. The truth might break me, just like it broke Jake. Was I being selfish for trying to avoid more pain? For letting Jake suffer more than I did? Hayden brushed my hair back and kissed the side of my face. “You’re quiet.” “Just thinking.” “About what?”

Fear chews at my insides. “If he finds out…” I begin. “He will,” she says. “He always does.” “I don’t want him to think—I’m not doing this to hurt him,” I say, surprising myself with how true that feels. “You’re doing it to tell the truth,” she says. “If it hurts him, that’s…collateral honesty.” I let out a shaky breath. “I want them to hear me,” I admit. “Not a statement. Not a PR spin. Just…me.”

I have no idea how he's using them to type on the itty-bitty keys. I figure as long as he's able to ignore me, I can ignore him as well, which I have done wholeheartedly. Once I set my mind to something, my determination is unending. But it doesn't mean I'm not heartbroken. And I still don't know what to do. Sure, the answer seems obvious. Tell the fucking truth. Isn't that what they teach everyone in elementary school? The truth will set you free and all that. But here's the thing. The truth won't set everyone free. The truth will get someone in trouble. And that trouble will be a shockwave through our entire circle. If there's even a friend circle left afterward.

The pain echoed within me as I uttered those words aloud. Furrowing his eyebrows upon hearing my answer, he asked, "Do you know why?" I shook my head firmly, expressing my lack of knowledge and disinterest in finding out. "No. I don't have the answers, and frankly, I don't have any desire to seek them." Curiosity got the better of her, who questioned my reluctance. "Why not? Understanding the truth , it could potentially bring you comfort and acceptance." I acknowledged the potential benefits of knowing the truth. I recognized that by uncovering the facts, I could either move forward or explore alternative solutions. However, a lingering fear gripped me as I responded, my voice trembling wit

His gaze was stone cold. "Truths are dangerous enough to get you killed before you are even strong enough to survive them, and sometimes you just have to let it go till you can bear to take it in." His tone was a bit calmer than usual, but I could tell he still wasn't going to say anything. I sighed in frustration as he pulled my wrist closer and slowly unwrapped the bandage. "I am not going to back down from this. I am not going to stay here while everyone keeps telling me the truth is going to hurt me. Why don't you just tell me and find out if I will get hurt?" I insisted.

A cruelty rather than relief. Half-truths may be worse than full lies at times, but truth for truth’s sake. It’s a weapon all its own. A way to hurt or punish someone with things they can’t change or help. Why do that to someone? How could I possibly hurt or maybe even endanger them with that knowledge? I wouldn’t call my current ‘walk of shame’ from Sai’s place home, one of revelry. Just quiet contemplation on all the changes that one act can bring.

“You do not understand what it costs to stand beside me.” “Then tell me,” she says, fierce now. “Show me. Stop pretending I can’t handle the truth.” The truth. The truth is blood and ruin. The truth is the nights I spent clawing my way out of the gutter, the bodies I stepped over, the empire I built from ashes and screams. The truth is men like Vincent who will never stop until they taste my blood or hers. “You want the truth?” I say coldly. “The truth is that everyone I touch ends up broken. You think you can survive me, but you cannot. No one does.”

“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.”