I am an expert in reading people. I truly am. I use this ability to further my aims, namely to seduce you and then to cause you pain as I always know how I react. Remember when we first met? Of course you do. You replay those golden moments through your mind several times a day as you try and conjure up some way of recovering them. Or even if you now understand you won’t be able to replicate them, you still like to remember them (even though it hurts you) as you are addicted to the memory. That is how powerful I am. That is how magnificently I get under your skin, into your mind and in between your sheets. When we first met wasn’t it amazing how I mirrored all your good qualities. You were staggered by how much we had in common. That is easy to achieve. I stalk your Facebook page which is a veritable goldmine for your thoughts, desires and what you enjoy doing (and moreover what you don’t like). Knowing your favourite meals is child’s play – you post pictures of them often enough. I have a look at your most visited places (since you like to brag about where you’ve been) and I add them to my list of favourite venues. I even manage to finish off the sentences that you start.
All of that pretence works wonderfully to draw you in. However, it is my skill at impersonating emotions that is where my brilliance lies. You see, I know that you want to believe everything I say and do. It is a very human trait. The need to believe. That is why Karl Marx declared that religion is the opiate of the masses. I am your opium. Utterly addictive. You want to believe in me. You therefore make it easy for me to feign how I feel. I watch and I learn and I copy. Since you are desperate to believe you do not analyse my mimicry to any great degree and accordingly I get away with it. I create a false environment. This world is one where I promise you the earth (but never deliver) and if you try and challenge me about my promises I will pretend I never said them. You cannot prove it can you? Thus I maintain control by causing you to be anxious.
Everything I do with you is false. The way I drew you in, the façade I maintain, the games I play. They are all designed to create something which is not real purely to serve my purposes. Some of you eventually realise this, although only when it is too far late. For others, you never grasp that I am the great pretender and thus you consign yourself to a lifetime of despair and misery.