Sooner or later we all do it. Women fake orgasms to please. Men fake love to tease. It's an art really. A very convincing form of art. And it's ridiculously easy - you're either a very good actor or you're not. What is not as easy though, is the art of faking bravery, the art of faking smiles and the art of making others believe that you've got it all figured out.
You might not be able to admit it, or maybe you just don't want to, but deep down you know you should just break down and cry. But then again you know that you're better than that, that a couple of warm wet tears running down your blushed cheeks are not going to turn a black and white photograph into a coloured one.
So you fake it. Yes, you show your tooth-pasted white teeth and you fake it. You'll never know what you're missing until you try it for yourself. The pleasure you get out of it is beyond orgasmic. In fact, you get so used to doing it, that it becomes addictive. It possesses your emotions. It damages you in a way that not even a first degree psychologist will be enough for you.
It's funny really (or maybe not so much), but I used to think that people who do stuff like this are unmistakably fake, just like women getting boob jobs and men injecting themselves with botox. Turns out I was wrong.
Turns out faking it is easier. Turns out we are all award-winning actors and actresses in the end. With an "ahhh" there and an "mmm" there, we walk the red carpet, we pose, we win and we smile. Or rather we fake it. Because, yes, faking it is easier. Fooling yourself and others around you is less complicated than having to endure useless, never-ending comments that start with 'it will all be all right'. Because .. what if it isn't? .. what if it won't be? ..
p.s. pinch of salt.