|Four Years of Practice|
"Amber, you didn't really love him, did you?"
I ask myself in the loneliness of my car
On cue, I laugh a haughty, hearty laugh,
"Don't be silly! Of course I didn't!"
I call this practice,
and this isn't my first rodeo, cowboy.
I've come to find that
if you say something enough
Ta-da! You really believe.
In retrospect, I do remember that I loved him.
In fact, I loved him fiercely.
It was the first time I agreed
that art imitated life.
I thought someone became
more beautiful with their flaws.
And when he left for the day,
I was no longer "on my own", just alone.
But if you ask me now,
and I dare you to,
I might give you a true answer,
which is rare but shines brilliantly-
I will tell you "no".
Without hesitation, or blinking, or change of heart rate.
My face won't flush over from a once gargantuan lie.
After four years of programming myself to "be strong",
I will stare at you and wonder, "Why did you ask such a silly question?"
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