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From a table away


She sat a table away at a distance that allowed her to hear it all. In the dim light he never even noticed she was there. After all it wasn’t her he was concentrating on but instead on the person in front of him. He sat immersed in conversation with her. She watched as he took her hand in his. Looked deep into
her eyes and was lost to her.

And at an arms length away she heard him say that he was still in love with her. And that’s when it happened. She could feel her heart breaking to pieces. She could feel the blood rushing out of her body. Her chest tightening up and her breath coming out slowly. She wanted to learn the truth and from a table away the harsh reality splashed her in the face. There he was, the man she loved most, telling someone else something she never dared imagine.
They say that truth hurts. That hearing it is a release of honesty but a sharp incision in the heart. The truth can free you of the anxiety but it can bind you to feeling the consequences of its reality. Anchoring you. The thing in telling the truth is that though it’s an honest act, a moral act, that doesn’t mean that what you have to say is what others would like to hear.

She was at that time heartbroken. It was as if her heart began to beat a different rhythm entirely. One she could never get used to, so that she felt nervous all the time and completely forgot what calmness and tranquility felt like.

She made the mistake of making Him her everything. Many years and a heart truly invested she lost herself in him. She had let down her guard, torn down the walls, and he’d come straight at her with a knife to her heart.

She could feel the ground beneath her start to shake. She closed her eyes andmemories of them rushed in. But every I love you and every kiss was now in flames. And in the ashes of it all she sat with blood shot eyes. The tears, an overflow of the heart that was barely beating. Covered in distress and disappointment she looked tattered and worn out.
She kept looking at him. Like if any minute now the portrait of him and her would shatter. But it didn’t. Instead he leaned in and kept speaking to her softly. And that was a reality that was too harsh to bear. It didn’t matter the time that transpired or the words spoken. The damage had been. He broke her spirit, broke her soul, and broke everything in her. All the lies, all the omissions where finally understood. Deception had shown its face.
It took seconds to lose the love she loved the most. But from a table away, under a dim light room, He broke her faith, broke their love, broke her heart. She gathered her things, took a deep breath and began the task of walking away as the pain inside her grew in weight and anchor. For you see the pain of having a broken heart is that it is not as much as to kill you, yet not so little as to let you live in peace.

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