I've been lied to. For the better part of six months in my marriage, when my husband preferred sneaking around and sleeping with his editor to confronting me about our issues. I can tell you, as someone who has been there, that honesty is always best. Did it hurt like a bitch when he told me our relationship was over? Did it feel like someone forcibly tore my heart from my chest and proceeded to river dance over it? Of course it did. But I would never, for one second, have preferred that those demons stayed in the cupboard.