The Lying Game

     I'm playing my own lying game.  The scary part is I don't want to play; I'm stuck inside my own lying game.

     It was easier when I only had one best friend, but recently so many great people have strolled into my life that the list has gotten four times as big.  Most of the time the number doesn't affect me, but lately I'm caught in the middle of something I couldn't care less about.
     The closer you get to someone the more you trust them, and in turn, the more they trust you.  The more they trust you, the more they tell you.  People trust me; they trust me for a reason.  If someone asks me not to tell anyone, I don't.  It's simple and easy, or at least it was.  The closer you get with someone the more you want to tell them until it gets to the point where you want to tell them everything.  You can see where having more than one best friend gets conflicting.
     Lying about knowing, lying about how much, lying about what exactly it is.  You can have all the details from both sides and still not be able to say a word.  When I said I was playing my own lying game before, I lied.  It's not my game, I am just one of the pawns.  If I choose to quit it means I restrict people being able to talk to me; if I choose to quit I lose.  If I keep playing my friends  are gonna tear me apart slowly and unknowingly; if I choose to keep playing, I lose.  My two friends, they are the players moving my piece around the board.  I can't side with either because that means I don't agree with one.  I can't keep defending one to the other.  I'm stuck inside a lose-lose situation.
 
     Let's go back to when Candy Land was the only game people liked playing.