When I told my first lie, I felt weak. No- strong. I felt elated. Do you know why? It wasn’t because I could fool someone into believing something that wasn’t there. Or was it? I think maybe it was. I think maybe I felt powerful. Yeah that sounds about right. I saw his face reacting to something I concocted out of thin air. MY words. MY story. It made him smile. Sometimes it made him sad. I don’t know which I enjoyed more. It’s easy to make someone sad. People are dying to be sad. If they don’t find it within themselves they go looking for it. It isn’t that challenging to make people sad. It is quite easy. But I enjoy it nonetheless. I was taught that it isn’t right to feel good about it. I can’t help it. People are hypocrites anyway. They don’t mind the lie. They only mind it if it hurts them. They don’t mind being happy about something that was never there. They don’t mind being manipulated as long as it is kind hearted. Kind-hearted manipulation.


So, which do I enjoy more? I still really don’t know. When I made him happy, I felt like I was saving him. Maybe I was. He was miserable all the time. He told me he had had a hard life. He told me he had nothing to be happy about. That was true- I gave him nothing to be happy about. Nothing that was real anyway. He wanted acceptance and it wasn’t there. I told him I accepted him and it made him happy. That was the first time I lied to him. That was the first time I lied. He wanted affection and it wasn’t there. But I convinced him he could find it in me. He told me he did and it had made his day. That really got the ball rolling. I couldn’t stop lying to his face. Watch it twist and turn to my fancy. He was my very own puppet. I can’t recall the last time I spoke the truth. Sometimes I tried and my sentences began with a real story. But his reactions, I couldn’t understand them. I couldn’t predict them and it made me very uncomfortable. So I would go on a tangent and I felt much better. I was never very good at reading faces, but this? This taught me how. I had never had a single friend. But with him, I found one. Even if I created it on my own. I found someone who wanted to spend time with me. Who didn’t want to run away because he thought I was odd. Who cares if I MADE him want to be with me? He didn’t know!


The way he stared into my eyes, watched my lips move as I spoke….I could have been the love of his life.

2 thoughts on “Hare’s Checklist

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