It happened again.

It happened again and I am tired of this happening. 

Once again, an upstanding citizen of a local small community was discovered living under an alias, a bank robber or  or something. Living a totally mundane life, watering their marigolds while waiting for the kid's carpool and WHAM. In swoops the FBI, on go the cuffs and bam ends normal life.  Off they go to jail while their family and neighbors gape in shock. She seemed so normal.

I didn't even know the person they were talking about on NPR as they reported the story.  All I knew is that it could have been me. It could have been my story they were reading but it wasn't.... but one day, it might be.

I've thought about it for so many years and turned it over in my mind like a maniacal puzzle.

I don't want to be haunted any more. I want to be free from this. 

The only thing I haven't actually done is tell the truth, straight out loud, exactly as it happened, and then see what happens from then.

After all, I lied. And I stole. And I committed breaking and entering, and I did so much more. I admit to this in the name of telling the truth.

But since it's the truth I want to tell, to get some peace, you have to hear this too.

What I lied about, I wasn't able to tell the truth. What I stole was already mine. Where I broke and entered, nobody else cared to be, and the other stuff, well, we can take that as it comes.