Today's writing

He raises his head, looks at me. In this moment I notice the fine lines around his eyes, the strong set of his mouth. He looks older, worn, tired, but also strong and resolute.

 

“Kel,” he says, then uses words that make no sense, that I don’t understand. It’s like he’s studied goddamned Swahili and is deploying it on me. This isn’t English. This couldn’t possibly be English. This couldn’t be anything that has any bearing on my current reality, because it makes no frigging sense.

 

Cheated. He cheated.  

 

He cheated with her. With her.

 

He drops all the expected verbiage – it just happened, he wasn’t planning it; he’s so goddamned sorry. At one point he tries to tell me how they didn’t actually fuck and I want so hard to belt him across his disgusting damned lying mouth.

 

“No,” I say in a voice at first is no more than a wisp of breath. “I don’t have to listen to this shit. I definitely don’t have to believe you. I most certainly do not need to expend energy acting like I give a good goddamn about the basics of how you betrayed me. Just knowing that you did is enough. It’s too much, actually.”