Lie With Me

She would lie to me whenever she turned up at my door.

She would start small, saying she was just passing and thought of me. She would be swaying when she said this, and smelling of vodka and cigarettes.

Then, once she was inside my apartment, she'd move onto bigger lies, talking about how good her job was going, how well her investments were faring. Nothing too extreme or outlandish, but lies nevertheless.

And then, after sex, she always told me how great it had been, and how she loved me, totally.

I could recognise patterns of behaviour, don't worry.