/the knowing/
...
he stood alone beneath the moonlight, the cigarette between his fingers burning slower than the thoughts consuming him.
it wasnât the big things that haunted him anymore.
it was the little lies.
the ones that served no purpose.
the stories that changed. the details that didnât add up. the things sheâd hide until he accidentally found out himself. every time he asked about them, there was always a reason âi didnât think it mattered.â âi was waiting to tell youâ âi knew youâd thatâll be reaction.â
maybe she was telling the truth.
maybe she wasnât.
he took a long endless puff, watching the smog vanish into the darkness.
âwhy?â he wondered.
âif weâre supposed to be on the same team⌠why make me question reality? why make me wonder whether Iâm being paranoid or simply paying attention?â
the hardest part wasnât feeling angry.
it was feeling foolish.
he didnât want perfection. he didnât expect someone who never made mistakes. he just wanted honesty, even when it was uncomfortable.
because trust wasnât destroyed by one devastating lie.
it was chipped away by a hundred tiny ones that never needed to be told.
he flicked the ash to the ground and stared into the distance.
the silence answered him better than she ever had.
sometimes the deepest heartbreak isnât discovering someone lied.
itâs realizing you no longer know when to believe them
