Confession-

Confession-

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Because,
telling you would mean, awaking most days with the knowledge,
The knowledge- you know that I want(ed) it to be you, although you are not mine to have;

Because,
telling you would mean, having to mask my emotions with an exaggerated display of happiness, when I sight your arms interlocked with hers.

Because,
telling you, would mean living with the knowledge that I almost destroyed another woman’s life… almost.

Because,
Telling you wouldn’t make any difference. The ring is hers, the wedding is upon, and all I have got is the dignity to hold my head up and utter through gritted teeth, how happy I am for you and expect you to believe it.

Because,
Telling you- would mean accepting the truth, you wouldn’t fight for me, us. You’ve always been an avoider of conflict and saying it won’t change that.

And because,
You might say, you wish it was me…. and I could handle me being unhappy but I couldn’t bear it If it was you. So I delude myself, as you delude yourself, and pretend we were never meant to be…

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9 thoughts on “Confession-

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