The Art Of Manipulation

by, Cassandra

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Should I tell you everything that goes on inside this mind? But, what's it matter, right? You already know, but saying the words, acknowledging that's it real, is nerve-wracking. I don't know if I could actually do it. I have to though, don't I? It's the only way. But that doesn't make it any easier.

I can't find the words; I can't form the words to explain it. I can't put my finger on this nagging feeling inside, but it's there. I know it's there, because I can feel it eating away at me every single day. And I think it's getting worse, but there's no way to really tell. It's just a feeling, and my feelings have been known to be misleading.

People try to help me, to tell me that what I'm feeling is normal, but how can they know that? I don't even know what I'm feeling, for heaven's sake! It doesn't make me feel any better, because I want to figure this out and make it stop. Being "normal" isn't going to help me. Taking away my individuality isn't going to help me.

Instead of actually taking the time to listen, to try and understand, they take the easy way out. They lump me into this category, making this excuse that I'm fine, when in reality I might not be. I'm scared. Don't they get that? I'm scared that this isn't just a "normal" thing. I'm scared that there might be something seriously wrong with me.

But these people… they don't want to accept it. They don't want to take on the burden of helping me. How can I tell them when they won't even listen? Oh, they pretend to, but I know better. I've perfected the art of make-believe. I've made people believe in things that aren't true so intensely that they wouldn't believe the truth if it walked up and smacked them across the face.

But that's not something to brag about, is it? I've become so wrapped up in manipulating people into believing my lies that I never stopped to think about what would happen when I want them to believe the truth. How do I convince them that everything they think they've known isn't real?

Of course that's just one side of my manipulation. Turning lies into truth is easy. The mark of a real con artist is when they can turn the truth into a lie. I've been wearing my true colors all along. Hiding in plain sight, as the saying goes. I've made them believe that who I am is just what I pretend to be. I've conned them into believing they know me by making them think they don't know me.

I wear my mark proudly. I love the power, but it's a lonely life. Nobody knows that you're not actually there when you're sitting right next to them. I'm tempted to call it a compulsion, but it's not. The truth is, I could stop if I wanted to. I just don't want to. But I'm not sure if that's a lie or not. I'm not sure if any of this is the truth, to be honest. I've conned myself.

But if you could read this, and see this glimpse of me in my rawest form, would you understand? Would you take the time to think about it, and put in the time and effort that I need from someone? I'm tired of living a lie as the truth, or the truth as a lie, but I don't know how to stop. I need someone to make me stop. I need someone to call me on it when I start the manipulation.

I need you, but I can't get your attention long enough to let you know. And I can only blame myself for that.