And she asked him, “do you still think of her
in the middle of the night?” A mouth full of
questions, a mind full of wandering. She
wanted to know the truth, she wanted to feel
some kind of shot go through her heart. The
arrow she hasn’t felt puncture her skin,
“No.” He replied, not a piece of him winced at
the question. He didn’t have anything but
honesty in his eyes, seriousness in her voice.
Just a plain, no.
Yet, a part of her couldn’t believe that, she
just couldn’t. She wasn’t sure if it was the
devil in her mind draping sadness over her
ears, causing her to hear “yes” instead of “no.”
She wasn’t sure if it was because he was a good
liar, or if it was just because he was too perfect.
Too honest, too amazing. He was some kind
She would try to sit there and pick out some
kind of flaw in him, anything. She was so use
to being broken, so use to being let down, she
couldn’t get quite comfortable on the pedestal
he sat her on.