We lied alot

An except from a story I am still in the process of writing, and quite honesty, starting:

We lied a lot. Nothing big. Nothing exactly major.  Mostly on things we didn’t even have to lie about.  They were less than white lies. They were more of exaggerations, mostly of why; of why we acted a certain away or why we did what we did. They were half true. Half not.  They were the missing pieces in the explanations that we tried to give, in the hopes that we would understand each other for things we didn’t quite understand ourselves.