Lost Among My Lies

I remember when I was younger, I loved playing pretend with my father.

“So what do you do for work?” he would ask me.

“I conduct business meetings with the top dogs in real estate. How about yourself?”

Portraying a new role was fun and easy. And with each character my persona would change. Sweet, bubbly, cute; callous, scowling, uncultured; daring, honest, bright-eyed; studious, dependable, discreet. The mannerisms, facial expressions, dress, and speech were executed perfectly without a hitch.

It was all a game until I got older. Now it was something I did for my profession. The lying became easy like turning on a switch. And at first washing away each façade was a piece of cake. But each time it became harder to keep control of the facts. My line between reality and the illusions I created blurred drastically.

I never really knew what I was getting into. It was just the family business. I simply chose it because things came easy. Money, clothes, clubs, connections. People in my line of work had the best of the best. And that’s all that matters.

Right?