I wanted to forgive him and yet the words were not in my mouth. In fact, they had yet to be created in my stomach. All I could do was just stare at him as he pleaded with me, repeating himself to make the next lie even stronger. Deep down, I knew he had lied to me from the very beginning and yet I still loved him. In some way, he made me feel special, giving me attention when he knew I lacked it. He told me that he loved me every day and I believed it. Back then, I never wondered if his words held a modicum of truth or not; all I knew was that a man loved me. He stood there, trying to get some sort of a reaction from me, hoping like hell I would take him back. All I could do was tighten my grip on the gun pointed at his heart.
Finally, I could smile.
(Shhh - photo by Kimberly B. Richardson; models - Jean Marie Sheridan and Tommy Hancock - copyright 2014)