sometimes, she finally reveals, most of what she wrote were nothing but
lies.
Lies end somehow, but the liar remains to be someone that you cannot believe anymore. A mouth to avoid. Except if your love is persistent, and unwavering, like a silky sea one fine morning,
you keep the walk despite her talk, holding her hand, even kissing her hair,
and you like this walking to be never ending.
Love covers lies.
Her nature continues. Love does more than that. The liar becomes professional in her dealings with you and you become more professional in
tolerating lies, to a certain point, the lies become irrelevant, love is getting more logical, and selects what to really believe in.

The liar is your beloved. You transcend. You jump over the fence and find
that green garden of hers, though far away.
And then both of you live there
happily ever after. I know you like this ending.
It is another lie.