Last night, while watching Scandal, I thought about an ex-boyfriend during the break. I wondered what my life would look like if we worked things out.

For a split second, I missed him. I told myself that I would be much happier sharing my bottle of wine with him instead of my virtual friends on Facebook. That my caramel chocolate chip cookie would taste a tad bit sweeter if he was feeding it to me. That I would have less debt, less disappointment and less weight (since we worked out together) if he sat beside me on the couch.

Although the relationship ended before the season of Scandal began, I replayed the memories in my mind like it had occurred the day before.

But then the commercial break ended, and Daddy Pope reappeared on the screen. On the outside, he looked like he was telling the truth. I wanted him to be telling the truth. I wanted his smile to be genuine, and his ways to be honest.

But on the inside, he calculated his next lie. He weaved a larger fabrication that would manipulate even the most intelligent, including his daughter.

Love made Olivia believe in change, and hope for the best. Love made me look beyond the deception that stared me in the face.

I knew my ex was lying throughout our time together. I wanted to believe him. I mean, why would he make things up? Why would I believe a random woman who tracked down my information and emailed me her side of the story? Why would he not walk in the light and stand in the sun?

He lied to shift blame, to avoid breakups and get his way. He lied to regain control, like Daddy Pope did with B-16. He lied to keep me in his life, but it led to me packing my bags like Liv.

Eventually, your lies catch up to you. Sometimes it suffocates you. The false perception of happiness doesn’t withstand the test of time, endure hardships or overcome obstacles. And if you’ve been lied to, sometimes the experience reminds you that being alone is better than living a lie. It teaches you that laying alone on the couch is better than laying with a liar.