“Deception: to cause to believe what is untrue” from the root word ‘deceive’”
Lie seems to be the simplest word in common with deception. But, look at the colorful list of synonyms associated in describing deception!
“bamboozle, beguile, bluff, buffalo, burn, catch, con, cozen, delude, dupe, fake out, fool, gaff, gammon, gull, have, have on [chiefly British], hoax, hoodwink, hornswoggle, humbug, juggle, misguide, misinform, mislead, snooker, snow, spoof, string along, sucker, suck in, take in, trick
and, also: kid, put on, tease; bleed, cheat, chisel, defraud, diddle, euchre, flam, fleece, gyp, hustle, mulct, rook, shortchange, skin, squeeze, stick, sting, swindle
and such phrases as: do a number on, lead one down the garden path (also lead one up the garden path), pull one’s leg, pull the wool over one’s eyes
Do you, dear reader, know me? If so, it is probable that I have in some way or another, already deceived you. Maybe you just haven’t noticed yet. But, yes, it seems to be inevitable that I have, am, or will lie to you. Especially, if you are someone who loves me in some way or another. I really specialize in hurting those that are close to me. I was going to say that my base intention is not to bamboozle, but, why bequille this expose on self?
I am fairly certain that I wasn’t brought up this way. The only obvious occasion I can recall my parents lying to me was telling me that Santa Claus was real. Was that so bad? Was it such a damning bluff? Probably, not. There were much worse things in store for me to make me wonder what depth of a lie it was to hear ‘I love you’ come from the mouth of those who caused me so much pain.
Hold up, there… this is about me. Let me not buffalo the blame on others. I am the one. I am the liar. I am the deceiver. I am the one responsible for my actions. To all of you who I have hurt, ‘I’m sorry’ seems pathetically inadequate… and, besides, at this point who would believe me?
So, what’s the point of any of this? God knows every little detail of every lie big and small. And, what twisted logic I conjured to excuse each one. From what I’ve read, He forgives. Wouldn’t it be a burn if that were a con, too? Or, worse, if even the whole book were a catch. Did I mention I have trust issues? Most deceivers do.
Dear reader, I am certainly not trying to cozen you into believing I have had some miraculous change of heart. Actually, I am fairly certain that what was left of that shriveled up useless organ has been mercifully ripped from my chest and placed in safer hands. It must have been, for there is this incredible pain in my chest where it once resided.
Don’t believe anything I write. My thoughts are deluded with guilt and remorse. Not a sound platform for cognizant rationalization. I might like to believe that I am writing this schlock to save some other master of dupe from suffering this fate of mine. But, am I? I can’t even tell what I believe myself, anymore.
If I were to take a stab at honesty, I might write something like this, “Please forgive me for being deceptive. My motives were fearful, selfish, and with very little consideration for your feelings. I know I have broken our trust and gravely damaged our relationship. I can do better. And, if given a chance, will expect to be held to a higher level of scrutiny.”
But, then again, who is gonna believe anything I ever write anymore?