Lying to Yourself

I should've realized that the girl that came back from the Hunger Games wasn't Katniss, much less my Catnip. An old saying tells you that the truth hurts. Don't believe the saying. It's wrong.

Disclaimer: I am not Suzanne Collins and I do not own the Hunger Games.

I told myself that things could back to normal between Katniss and me. Even with all of the star-crossed lovers nonsense, even though the Games had made her broken, I still had a chance with her.

Wasn't I the one who had supported Katniss for all of these years? Wasn't I the one who could tell what she was always thinking, before she even knew she was thinking it? Wasn't I the one who she had trusted with her family's life?

I whispered these words to myself in the dark at night, when I would be consumed with fear of losing my Catnip. I repeated these words to myself whenever I saw her and Peeta cuddling together on TV. Whenever I saw her walk hand in hand through town with Peeta, with her cheeks rosy and her laughter ringing, I would go into the woods and reassure myself that Katniss was mine. No one could take her away from me.

How easy it is to lie to yourself.

When Katniss kissed Peeta all those times during the Victory Tour, it didn't look forced. I told myself that Katniss had just become a really good actress. She had told me herself that the star-crossed lovers angle was just that-an angle. But a part of me wasn't convinced. A hostile and grim person who has known nothing but hard work her whole life can't be transformed into an effortlessly convincing and charming actress practically overnight. Maybe Katniss's fake relationship with Peeta was real, even though Katniss denied it.

How easy it is to believe someone else's lies.

I knew Katniss was broken. I knew she needed time and space to heal herself, both physically and mentally. But that day in the woods when I kissed her, how could I resist not doing so? She looked so achingly beautiful in the woods, where she let her careful mask of emotions slip off, if only for a little while. How beautiful she looked in the place that was practically her home, melting into her surroundings and looking like she truly belonged there. With me, I added.

Being the person that I am, my patience only went so far and I wanted answers to at least some of my questions. Did Katniss care about me the way I cared about her? Was her relationship with Peeta all really just an act, a tool for survival? So when I kissed her and she acted like the kiss never happened, I told myself that she just needed to think everything through, and that she just needed more time.

How easy it is to believe anything when in love.

I should've realized that the girl that came back from the Hunger Games wasn't Katniss, much less my Catnip. No, I should've realized at the Reaping that my Catnip was beyond my reach now. The person that came back from the Games wasn't Katniss Everdeen, my best friend. The person that came back was Katniss Everdeen, The Girl on Fire, victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

Katniss could live without me, although she didn't acknowledge the fact. If Peeta died, Katniss would be broken beyond repair. If Prim died, Katniss would probably kill herself. If I died, Katniss would mourn me for a year or two, maybe sink into a minor depression, but she would get over it eventually.

They say the truth hurts.

They're wrong. Completely and utterly wrong.

The truth bites at you, it burns you, it haunts you, it rips your heart into tiny pieces, but it does anything but just hurt you.

Thank you for reading as always, and reviews are welcome :D