of malice

At first I decided not to write about this; to not tell you what happened tonight. But I’ve come to depend on this sharing. When I can’t figure out how I’m feeling, writing to you seems to be my only way out. So here goes.

Much against Mister’s advice, I went out dancing, alone. We fought about it – he was concerned about my safety and I was concerned about my mental health. I haven’t done anything other than work-sleep-work for the last two weeks and I’ve had it. My life is a fucking nightclub, and I’m starting to feel out of place. Again.

I’d have let it go, but today was one of those days when I just couldn’t bear being indoors anymore; I couldn’t bear being the. weaker sex. It felt like I was dissolving into the shadows little by little – becoming nothing in his absence. Like I didn’t exist as an individual. Who says good girls can’t go dancing alone?

So I went to that club to sit in that stool by the bar. And secretly, to see if A. was going to be there. I hadn’t met him since he told me he was in love with me. After what happened last time, would he even acknowledge my presence?

Maybe not. But somehow, I needed to know tonight – I needed to know that I owned his heart. It’s not like I wanted to act on it, but I have been attracted to him for a long time, and I needed to know he was still in love with me. Does that make sense?

To be honest, I wasn’t sure whether to go in, so I stood outside for a few minutes, trying to make up my mind.

Another couple that frequents the place dragged me inside, and A. was the first thing I saw.

But he was wrapped in a pair of arms – and those arms belonged to someone I know intimately. Someone who knows about my history with A and how I feel about him. They were swaying to a song. My song. And when I asked Giggles to meet me today, she told me she was busy with work.

How long has she been lying to me for?

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