We are standing there, looking at each other. My arms are wrapped around his neck and his rest along my waist. To everyone else we are the picture of the perfect couple, deeply in love with each other.
I used to be the damsel in distress.
He drops me off at my house and as soon as my door has closed behind me, I drop the fake smile and tears blossom in my eyes. I think to myself, this is not what I want. I slide down to my floor as the tears come streaming down my cheeks, taking my perfectly painted face with it and revealing hidden tragedy. Days worth of agony wash over my features in those few short minutes. As the crashing waves of self-disgust, longing, and hatred suside into numbing pain, I stand and wipe my face.
And I didn't mean to give you chills, the way that I kissed.
In my room I pause before the picture I can't bring myself to take down. I look into the smiling face and bright eyes of what used to be. I sigh to myself in regret - for that has what my days have been reduced to. I know I must act my part once I leave the saftey of these walls, but I relish in the ability to let it free as soon as I am alone. I was forced out of a love-filled relationship with a man made exspecially for me by guilt and into a fake courtship with a guy I despised by false notions and explinations.
And I wonder if I ever cross your mind.
I gather up my things and walk to my shower. I set the water just under boiling; they say hot water kills the bad germs. I step in and shudder as the water scorches my skin. I shake off the pain and brace myself as I fully submerge mysef under the cascading water. A silent gasp escapes my lips as I complete the last step in my nightly ritual - washing away the horrors that transpired through the day.