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A Conversation with My Conscience
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Prose/Short Stories You’ve been living a lie.
That’s what my conscience told me no matter how many times he tried to disprove it. The last two years of my life were a contradiction.
I was in denial.
After all, isn’t it more comforting to believe he loved me once than to realize it wasn’t possible? I did for too long. It’s what gave me the courage to get out of bed most mornings.
If he loved you, someone else might too.
That was one of many lies I told myself. I almost believed it. But then he turns my whole world upside down, and the opposite becomes my bitter reality. “I never loved you”: he doesn’t speak the words, but his actions imply it.
He’s moved on. And what’s more, he’s practically living with her after only a few weeks. I know this because he told me. We’re trying to go the friendship route.
What the hell am I trying to prove by still being friends with him?
It reminds me of what we had. That sublime happiness I may never have again.
“If he is your “friend”, then why does he rub it in your face how she’s so much better than you?”
Good point. It’s something I grow tired of hearing and maybe I want to prove something to those who say so.
Men and women can’t be friends if they have a romantic history together.
That is, if I’m the woman. The jealous, insecure, pathetic woman. Now, that’s the truth.
