By Karlie Massie
You told me on the cold, stone bench we had claimed our own. I think you felt safe there amidst the jagged rocks that divided us from the ripples of the sand. But your honest words were my demise, and they ruined our place. They sliced and struck the safety net we had carefully constructed together. I sat and watched it fall while you sat and thought of her.
And then, I saw you with her. I felt myself break. Is that possible? I wanted to ask you, but instead I endured. My hands were clasped together with knuckles a smooth, stark white. Urgently, I held them to my chest trying desperately to keep everything inside. But I failed myself. My eyes burned and my limbs shook. Even my teeth radiated with rage. And as each part of my body dissolved and slid towards the dirty ground, your lips held firmly onto hers.