The Player Being Played.

First off, men do not fall desperately at my feet, demanding my heart nor my love. So I do not really constitute as a "player". However, I do play games. I scheme quietly. Armed with the power of eye contact, abb muscles, and genuine interest.

Never underestimate the power of genuine interest. It is a skill born, not made. It earns you allies and builds friendships. It ruins grudges, first impressions, and occasionally a bad day. But if used for evil, it can destroy vulnerable hearts.

I always have been the controller. I prided myself on winning the game. Of being able to pull out before I got hurt. Of being able to say the way I felt, so that the pain was over quick. I never stopped to think- "What if others play this game as well?"

What if someone also understood this game of hearts?

Alert the press, I found one.

I think I about to be played?