“You look awful”
That’s all I could say while my heart collapsed.
New numbers, new addresses, new emails.
All enough of a reason to feel the things that I’ve been told I should. Betrayal, rage.
But it was that photo.
Of you and our youngest
It ripped through me faster and harder than any of the words, or thoughts or feelings that came before.
The pain in your face
Of those couple of hundred of pixels
The years and years and years of studying someone’s face the way I have studied yours.
A doctorate in knowing your eyes and smile
I know when it’s sincere, I know when it’s true.
But your shattering is like glass to me.
And I would suffer a thousand cuts time and time again if it meant I could put you back together.
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