You say you want the truth? It isn’t pretty. Or it won’t be to you. Actually, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to ask. Maybe you just didn’t want to know, because then you’d have to do something, admit there’s a problem. That our picture isn’t perfect. That your wife is damaged goods.
Of course, if we’re really being honest here – that is what you want, isn’t it? – you must already know. I’ve made no real attempt to hide anything from you. I practically begged you to catch me. But denial is a powerful drug. Or maybe you really are that blind.
Shall I lay it out for you? New clothes, disappearing for hours into the bathroom, the bedtime excuses. You thought you were just giving me some space, and for that, I am grateful.
You’re still not getting it. Here, I’ll show you. No, don’t look away. See that? They’re really quite beautiful, aren’t they? The lines, so straight and even, each one in it’s place. It took me a while before I could get them that perfect. Each exquisite line a moment of pure feeling, a moment I didn’t have to think about anything else. Didn’t have to remember.
I’m usually careful, but this one here? This one bled more than the others, small round droplets oozing up. I watched that for a long time, each crimson sphere expanding until it collapsed and finally fell, leaving even more tracks. I’d squeeze and watch it again, until I had nothing more to give.
Am I going to stop? No, I don’t think so. I mean, I almost don’t have to cut anymore. I can just look at my arm and remind myself to forget what happened. But I have to do it sometimes. Did you know humans can’t remember physical pain? I’ve always found that fascinating.
Oh, come now. It’s not so bad. It’s not like I’m dying, and it’s nothing that can’t be covered up with a little makeup and some long sleeves. And if someone notices? Scratches are easy to explain. Maybe I fell into a rose bush or picked up the wrong cat. After a while, most people get tired of hearing about real pain. They’d rather you just got over it.
Like you, they’ll just choose to believe the lie. It’s so much easier than the ugly truth.
