My heart is worn out by this

Tomorrow she will ask me why I left her sleeping alone, passed out from gin and fully clothed without a warm body to hold when she wakes, and I won’t tell her that it could have been the first time for her to see me cry. If she had seen what I saw, if she had seen what I had to destroy, she would understand. She would have seen a body as warm and alive as a tender child, chest heaving in and out slowly, with flesh peaceful and subsisting. She would have seen a soft body that will be made to shudder violently with painful tears. She would have seen the breasts that will be clenched and cradled when the body that contains them is left abandoned and alone. If she had seen what I saw, she would have cried, too, because I will never love her.

Anonymous online confession