Clinch

There’s danger in stringing a person along. In making promises and not delivering. In breaking their heart when all you want to do is own it for the rest of your life.

Cherish it.

Worship at their feet.

Before they grew tired of the game, said they’d had enough, they shared pieces of themselves they’d never shared with anyone else. They accepted your lies and excuses about why you didn’t want to make your relationship public until finally realizing they were nothing more than empty words.

I know that danger because it’s what I did, and it didn’t matter that I shattered my own heart in the process.
What mattered was how deeply I broke hers.

Every time I told Cara I was sorry, that she needed to trust me because I loved her and would never intentionally hurt her, felt like a cancer eating me from the inside out.

It ravaged me. Ruined me.

I should have been straight with her from the beginning. Should have known eventually she’d grow tired of it.

Instead, I piled the lies so high I couldn’t repeat them if I tried.
I should have stuck to the plan, exacted my revenge before I risked losing her altogether.

Now, it might be too late.