/the knowing/
...
he stood alone beneath the moonlight, the cigarette between his fingers burning slower than the thoughts consuming him.
it wasnāt 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 didnāt add up. the things sheād hide until he accidentally found out himself. every time he asked about them, there was always a reason āi didnāt think it mattered.ā āi was waiting to tell youā āi knew youād thatāll be reaction.ā
maybe she was telling the truth.
maybe she wasnāt.
he took a long endless puff, watching the smog vanish into the darkness.
āwhy?ā he wondered.
āif weāre supposed to be on the same teamā¦ why make me question reality? why make me wonder whether Iām being paranoid or simply paying attention?ā
the hardest part wasnāt feeling angry.
it was feeling foolish.
he didnāt want perfection. he didnāt expect someone who never made mistakes. he just wanted honesty, even when it was uncomfortable.
because trust wasnāt 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 isnāt discovering someone lied.
itās realizing you no longer know when to believe them
