"You didn't finish, did you?" he asked.
"No," I said.
I've lied before, but I'm trying to wean myself away from it. Lying only adds a layer of mental unease to any lingering physical dissatisfaction I might be feeling, and assuaging false pride rarely seems like a good deal. The dishonesty (to myself) leaves a bad taste in my mouth; if he bothered to ask, doesn't he want the truth?
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