Dear Diary,
Oh my God… what an immature person I was married to. Today he came to me and said sorry. But it didn’t feel real, not even for a second. I have lived through too many years, too many cycles of his fake guilt, and his sudden softness that always vanishes the moment I stop agreeing with him.
If I stay quiet, he gets triggered, like silence itself offends him.
He throws words like knives, each one meant to wound, to control.
But today… today was different. I looked straight into his eyes and said “No.” Hiding all my pain.
Just one word and everything changed. His tone shifted instantly. The man who pretended to be remorseful only moments ago turned harsh again, like the mask had slipped and his true face finally showed.
That’s when it hit me this was never love. It was an act. A carefully rehearsed play for the world to see. Maybe he has some family function coming up, maybe he needs to parade the illusion of a “happy marriage.” I don’t know. But I do know this his apology wasn’t for me. It was for the audience he wants to impress.
And for the first time, I didn’t fall for it. I didn’t melt. I didn’t hope.
I just felt… tired.
Maybe that’s what real clarity feels like.
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