Illiterations: Laughing At My Own Expense

Nobody ever thinks the person they fall in love with is pretending. Nobody thinks that the person that is "their person" is lying. Imagine meeting somebody so deeply invested in lying about their most primal reality that they are unable to see the truth themselves, possibly. Imagine that person pursuing you; cultivating a romantic life with you; asking you to marry them. How could you tell? How would you know when that person that took many years convincing you to fall in love with them was telling a lie? Then imagine spending another 10 years with that person. Imagine investing in a life; in each other's families; and in businesses and dreams. When all of the trappings are set up to be exactly what they're supposed to be, and all of the interactions with family and friends seem to be what anybody would dream of; how would you know? And, as the years pass and the carefully constructed stories and facades stop supporting the weight of the mounting troubles; do you know

Many people wouldn't know it because I hide it well, but I am a highly sensitive person.  Grrrr, I grit my teeth as I write that, because I find that to be one of those statements that can be applied perhaps more liberally to explain things away (i.e., make excuses or avoid responsibility for something else).  Kind of like ADD has been painted on many, or used by many, as a handy explanation for occasional, or off-handed, inattentive behavior. Most highly sensitive people would not choose a profession like mine -- real estate -- and that's a very valid point.  It's been my struggle to be this way and to be in my business.  On reflection though, life in general has been hard, with respect to the life of a highly sensitive person.  As a kid, I was always the odd kid out.  I was the one bullied and even tortured by a few select individuals.  I never understood why, but I supposed that since bullying has no "appropriate" reason to exist, why would I be able to e