by Teresa Finney
I guess a mourning period is needed now. For me, I mean. I would bet my life that you are going to go on living as if nothing has happened. Because that is how you get through shit. Because that is what you are doing now. You know that I know you better than what you probably know yourself, but I cannot for the life of me understand why you would consciously choose to hurt me.
Don’t forget that you met me. And that for a small moment our lives intersected and what that meant. Although, what exactly, now, I can’t say. Do you remember all the times you told me “we will be in each other’s lives for a long time, Teresa”? You said it at Jimmy’s and once you said it while looking me straight in the eye on the couch in my apartment. Was “a long time” a mere year? Do you remember the time you told me you’d walk me down the aisle on my wedding day? What am I supposed to do with those memories now that it is obvious you were just faking it? My only sin is that I believed you. God forbid.
I almost wrote “god forgive”, which, I mean, yeah. That too.