Maybe I'm a compulsive liar, you know, 'cause I've got the routine down pat.
I think that it was probably the video games or the television constantly preaching the correct perfectly melodramatic way to demonstrate your emotions; any trace of reality makes you a bad actor, you know. Maybe I'm just so easily influenced that I'll say whatever comes to mind first and maybe I've done it so often that you just don't believe the truth anymore. Maybe I don't believe it either.
As smart as you may be, anyone can say anything and everyone will believe it as long as they pause before the right words, smile weakly, glance at the floor, look up through their hair, place the correct emphasis and inflection in all the right places.. If you hold the words in as though in hesitation, it gives a different effect. Chew on your lips and no fingers of blame will point in your direction because you're so damn nervous.
I don't remember how to tell the truth convincingly anymore because I really just don't care. Remember, any trace of reality and you're a liar but without the reality, it's not the truth. Pause in different places and speak a bit too fluidly and you're just trying to hard. I'll hold my breath and speak too quietly; the words will come out as a sigh and therefore be open for interpretation. Chew my lips and tell you you're beautiful. You won't consciously believe it but your heart will stutter for maybe a second, and that's enough to make it real.
I pause, look at the ground. "I… love you." Chew on my lips. Fiddle with my sleeves in that way that you think I do when I'm feeling uncomfortable. I feel fine.
Your eyes widen and for a moment, all you do is blink.
I look up, my hair falls into my eyes, my goggles reflect your face back at you twice, tinted orange but I'd call it gold. Your lips twitch. I twitch mine in response, stand up as if I'm worried and going to leave.
You tell me to wait and I comply because you're responding appropriately so I know I'm doing something right. It's silent. I breathe too hard on purpose.
"I love you… too." Your pause is wrong, so you're probably telling the truth.
After a moment's hesitation, I smile. You're glowing; I'm bored. I feel my façade slipping but you don't notice and I'm too apathetic to really give enough of a damn. In a moment, I'll come sit next to you and briefly press our lips together. You won't respond because I'm usually not so forward and you'll be surprised. I'll pull away and you won't want that; after a moment of indecision you'll drag me back in.
My performance is so convincing, you know, that I sometimes believe it myself.
A/N: Over-usage of certain words intentional.
By the way, here's my disclaimer: Disclaimed.