He did not love her. At least, that’s what he told himself before he left. She was out to get him, clearly. A vicious being, disguised in that armor of beauty he fell so hard for years ago. A long time ago, and he was just a kid then anyway. He saw her tears, as she begged him to give her answers, to make her understand. It was a trick. Anyone can make themselves cry. She just wanted to use him. Because, as much as he covered the thought, it seeped out to remind him that he had used her. But he wasn’t doing that again. No, she deserved everything she was getting this time.
He just wanted someone to talk to; she should have kept it a secret. I mean, look at her perfect life. She deserved to take the blame before he should face what he did. I mean, he had a family at stake and couldn’t afford to throw them away for her questions. He didn’t owe her a damn thing. She probably planned this all along to ruin him. There’s no way that she meant those words. The hell with the look in her eyes. Blue eyes are overdone anyway.
What did he ever see in her? She was just a tag-along–someone to keep him company. It was stupid to reach back out. Just a weak moment, but there was no feeling behind it. He just wanted someone to hear him, and he knew what a pathetic soul she had become. Nothing he would want to tie himself into again.
She was too good for him anyway. All she talked about was him going to college and being responsible. What a waste of life. He was right where he belonged.
Let her keep her pictures of stiff memories. None of theirs had meaning anyway. He was just going along for the ride. He realized he hadn’t gotten to taking that one picture out from his truck, but he would definitely burn it soon. He just didn’t have time to throw it away is all. Besides, he looked good in that picture. Let the picture collect dust, as he leaves her in it right here. His mind fought the drop that slid from his eye as he walked away—He did not love her.