Why do I tell you everything? Guilt? Shame?
You didn’t deserve to know about him. But here comes the shame-train. Toot, toot.
You were not concerned about me. You were concerned about him. You’re concerned about someone else invading your turf. You don’t have turf for invasion. I am not yours.
We are not a “we.” We were never a “we.” A “we” is a team. And a game console of a different spelling. We are not together.
Remember a few years ago. I was involved in our matter. While you kept her quiet for months. Without guilt. And your other indiscretions.
But I can’t keep someone quiet for less than four days. Because, “He said he’d be honest with me next time.”
Again, we are not together.
This was a chance to be vulnerable. To explore. To ponder. But I caved into my guilt and shame.
It was mine. Not yours. Maybe you know a tidbit of the tale. But you’ll never know the rest.
And I swear, you’ll never know how it ends.