I Have Pretended To Be Mentally Novels & Stories

“That’s it?” “I rehearse conversations that never happen,” I continued. “Sometimes I win arguments that don’t exist.” He laughed. “That’s adorable.” “Don’t say that,” I warned. “It is adorable to be honest and makes you different.” “What about you?” I asked. He leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky. “I pretend I’m fine even when I’m not. People think I’m calm, but I overthink everything.” I looked at him. “You don’t seem like it.”

Am I just creating scenarios in my head? I mentally slapped myself and inwardly shook my head. "N-nothing, sir. I’m just talking nonsense," I mumbled with a laugh. At least that would hide my embarrassment. "Stop laughing. Faking it just makes you look crazy." I was stunned and just bowed down because I was too embarrassed at him. Then, I saw some images flashed in my head. What was that? Did I just daydream on almost stealing a kiss from him and then, him doing it at the end?

I’m not proud of what I’ve become, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned since being with him, it’s how to pretend. Pretend nothing hurts me. Pretend I’m fine. Pretend I want to give him a child. Sometimes even pretend I feel pleasure when all I really want is to tear my own skin off. Pretending has become my greatest defense mechanism. Lying is my sharpest weapon.

It danced recklessly, tapping out a rhythm I couldn’t follow. “I think I’m hallucinating,” I muttered under my breath, hoping he didn’t hear. But he did. He tilted his head slightly, amused. “What was that?” “Nothing,” I said quickly, the panic rising like a tide in my throat. I stood up, pretending to stretch, pretending I wasn’t internally combusting. “I mean…” I began, stumbling through excuses. “Maybe it’s the hiccups messing with my head. Or maybe I’m just dehydrated. Or low blood sugar.”

Peter offered, his eyes soft with concern. I glanced down at my hands and realized I was chewing on my nails, an old nervous habit that had subsided and I thought I had broken. I forced a smile. “No, it’s okay.” Lying to myself felt like second nature at this point. “Besides,” I added, feigning confidence, “it doesn’t even look that much like me in the picture, right?” Peter nodded, but I wasn’t sure if he actually agreed or if he was just trying to keep me from losing my mind.

“I know that you don't mean any of what you just said, I am not going to pay you any attention again. These are just the words of a drunkard, so sleep it off and I will act like tonight did not happen” I said with a shaky voice and shaky hands. “Don't you see the problem? Don't you realize that you are delusional? You sieve what someone says to you and take only the part you find favorable and believe only that part to you. The rest are gibberish and nothing just because you do not like it. So l, what now? Do you pretend like you never heard the truth? But I am not surprised, you are all about it, you pretend about everything. Your whole life is a pretense”

The promise feels like a lifetime ago, a relic from a different, saner version of myself. Now, the thought of facing her, of feigning normalcy, feels like an insurmountable task. My stomach clenches, a leaden weight settling deep within me. I don't have the strength. Not for polite conversation, not for casual laughter, not for pretending that my world hasn't been utterly upended in the last forty-eight hours. My mind races, a frantic hamster on a wheel, searching for excuses, for a plausible lie that won't sound hollow or suspiciously vague. *Traffic. A sudden headache. An urgent, unforeseen royal duty.* Each one feels thin, transparent.

maybe she’ll mistake me for being a stalker if I suddenly show up to her right now! and I came up with a good idea! I’ll be pretending I was jogging!!! I’m really smart! from a distance, I pretended to be jogging until my body materialized and luckily she is going to the store “Mary Ann?” (pretended to be surprised) “John Carl?”- Mary Ann, she has a surprise on her face “Hello, what a coincidence that I would see you here” but in my mind, I’m praising myself for being witty “Hi, why are you here?” - Mary Ann

"Nish, do you hear me?" I took out my cell phone and put it to my ear to pretend that I was talking to someone. I didn't want them to see me talking to myself, they would think that I was crazy. -What do you ask?" I gave him a quick look. He seemed to understand.

He knew, and worse—he wanted me to know he knew. The rest of the day I buried myself in denial like it was armor. Every time my mom spoke, I smiled like nothing was wrong. Every time Roman walked into a room, I pretended he wasn’t there. Every time my heart stumbled when I caught a glimpse of him, I shoved it down with a brutal reminder. He doesn’t matter. It didn’t happen. It means nothing. I repeated it like a mantra. I clung to it like a prayer. But it was exhausting. Pretending was harder than I thought it would be. By the time evening rolled around, I felt stretched thin, like one wrong word might snap me in half.