A Life Full of Lies
Lies, lies and more lies. His entire life revolved around this central idea of a lie. Big or small, he just had to lie. It had become a part of his style, his talk, his persona, and just who he was as a person.
When he was born, his adopters lied to him that they were his parents. When he was put in school, his parents lied about his age so that they could get him into a grade one above than what he should've been in. All through elementary, his classmates lied to him that he was a fast runner. All through high school, his teachers lied to him that he was good at art and math. Girls around him lied to him that he looked good just to poke fun at him. His optometrist lied to him that his eyes were great. His dentist lied to him that his teeth were in good shape.
Now it was his turn. All through college, he lied about his abilities. He lied that he had written all those wonderful essays himself. He lied on his resume. He lied to his parents about his grades. He lied to the bus conductor that he had already purchased his ticket. He lied to his employer about his inter-personal skills. About his past work experience. About his references. About his punctuality, his judgment, his efficiency. He lied to his colleagues about his hobbies. He lied to them that he never drank. He lied that he never smoked. He lied to his parents about his tastes in girls. When he got a girlfriend, he lied to her that she was his first. When he got married, he lied to his wife about his affairs with other women. When he was blessed with a beautiful daughter, he lied to her that he loved her when he couldn't even stand her presence around him. Every single time. Every single opportunity for a lie. Every single one of them taken full advantage of. Not a single one went without lying.
Of course, he lied to his doctor about his problems. He lied to the pharmacist about his prescriptions. He lied to his lawyer about his wealth and his debts. He lied to the police that he wasn't drinking and driving. He lied at court that he hadn't witnessed the crime. He lied to his insurance broker. He lied about the value of his house. He lied to his bank. He lied to the government about his income. He lied about his status in society and he lied about his employment. He lied to his neighbour that he hadn't stolen his garbage can.
You know at some point, I once thought he himself was a lie. And that his existence was a lie. That his very being on this planet was a lie. A big, fat, lie.
Too bad that when he died, he couldn't lie about his death.
He simply couldn't.
