I woke up with the song Bed of Lies by Nicki Minaj playing in my head this morning. When this happens, it’s usually one part of the song on repeat, and the lyrics may or may not be accurate.
The part I keep repeating is: Do you ever think of me when you lie, lie down in your bed, your bed of lies?
I feel like that is a relatable line because that is one of the first questions I ask when I try to understand why someone lied to me. I wonder if they think about it, if they care.
They probably don’t, or they wouldn’t have done it to begin with.
I wonder if people get used to lying. I wonder if they ever consider the people they lie to at all.
Maybe lies start out being about little things that don’t really matter, maybe exaggerations, or something to try and impress others.
Maybe people don’t call them out on these lies because they either don’t notice, or don’t care enough to say anything. I know for myself, I usually just file it away as information.
Let them have their twist on reality.
But over time, these small lies that don’t seem to affect anyone or anything may be doing something more sinister in the background.
I imagine they are teaching the person how it feels to lie. How to not worry about how the lie may affect others. Because if it did, someone would have said something by now. Surely.
Maybe they are teaching that the consequences for lying probably won’t come, or if they do, they won’t be that bad.
That the reward is worth the risk. Until one day the risk doesn’t even register anymore. And there’s the real tragedy.
What if the lies are teaching the person how to not care about others?
What if the lies are robbing them of a part of their humanity?
Do you ever think of me when you lie?
Maybe you do. Maybe that thought just doesn’t matter enough.
