Fool When It Comes to You

Currently Listening: “F.U” - Little Mix

I know that there’s someone in a bed with you somewhere,
I know it deep in my heart as the fancy meal I learned to
cook specially for you grows cold and the candles melt low.
You said you would be here early, just for our anniversary,
and yet you texted me just five minutes ago. Staying at
work late. Eat without me x.

I glance at the clock and I know that it’s wrong. That
you’re lying. Your work finished three hours ago, so
why would you only be texting me now? You’re easily
distracted, you would have texted me before now, when
you lost concentration on the work you’re currently doing,
the countless spreadsheets that you enter data into.

I can only imagine the shitty motel room you’ve taken
him to; crisp white sheets, stained underneath a black
light. They probably charge by the hour as you mess
around and tangle in the sheets. My heart begins to

sink and again, I find myself on the phone to my
mother, tears streaming down my face and ugly sobs
choking my oxygen supply.

She says the same thing as last time, ditch him,

he doesn’t see what an amazing man he has in
you. It’s like I’m listening to a broken record.
He doesn’t deserve one tear from you, or one
second of your life. It’s time to be strong and to
walk out. I consider it and I thank her. I put the phone
down. I dump the plates still with their food in the sink.
I don’t care when your good porcelain shatters.

I begin the walk up the stairs when the door unlocks, and
I falter in my steps to turn around. You’re staring at me,

smiling as you take your coat off, hanging it up on the

hooks by the front door. You walk towards the bottom of

the stairs and you open your arms to me. I tell myself no,
this is it, he’s hurt me for the last time. But I feel my resolve

dissolve inside of me.

His smile and eyes, shining away in dim light, it’s my weakness.
I can’t hope to ever fight back against that charm. It’s no
wonder he has a different man every week, in some shitty
motel – maybe he takes them to a glossy hotel, somewhere
better than he’d ever take you – tears flood my eyes. Sobs
once more escape my throat and I run down the stairs.

His arms envelope me and I sob into his shoulder. It hurts, I feel
my heart break as I let him silently drag me back into his life, to
take away every inch of strength I ever had. I hate this, I hate
myself. No. I hate him. I hate every inch of him. But as he carries
me upstairs to our bedroom, my body craves him and I sob again.

We make love for a few hours and we collapse on the bed, curled
together, messy, sweaty and content. But neither of us are content,
and we both know it’s a lie. He knows I know, and I know he’s not
happy with just me. And as we lie there, falling asleep together,
I make a sleepy memo to slash his fancy car tyres in retaliation.
For now, I’ll curl into his arms, and I’ll let myself believe the
lie he whispers in my ear.

I love you