You are one hell of an actress. You look me in the eye and say I never meant to hurt you. Well, yes you did. That is exactly what you meant to do.
You look at me in your drunken stupor with an expression of pure contempt and hatred when you tell me how cute he is. He was my best friend and you knew it. I still trusted you in that blindness they often attribute to love. I thought it was just a bad day. I had no idea how bad of a day it was.
You have the audacity to look like you feel bad as you throw me out on the streets with no place to go. “I think it’s best if you aren’t here when I get home.” 8 hours to accept that the love of my life is cheating on me, to gather up 10 years of memory and decide what I can carry on my back in the rain. To figure out how far I can walk, knowing I’m 6 days from paid. That I can’t even give notice at the job I’ve had for 3 years because I have to worry about where I’m sleeping that night. You shouldn’t look at me like that.
When I see you next, you have that same look but don’t think it’s fair that you should have to pay a few bills but it wouldn’t be comfortable for you if I get the rest of my belongings. You say you’re sorry you hurt me but I should have seen it coming.
Why am I still in love with you? I bet sleep is nice.