So is it better to tell and hurt or lie to save their face?
She knew she had scared him with her tears. She sat up, ashamed and embarassed. Angrily, she wiped her face with her hand. She crossed her legs and began to talk, to tell him everything just like he’d asked.
“I’m afraid of doing this again. Of letting myself be vulnerable with someone else. He…you reminded me of him. I loved him and-” I was comfortable and warm inside my shell.
She turned and let him see her tear-strained face. The tracks of mascara smeared across her cheeks. She wanted to be raw with him; like nothing could harm her. She shuddered; took his hand. She could tell him. “he-”
New tears poured.
“hurt me.” And couldn’t see this place would soon become my hell.
The seams split and suddenly, she broke down. Words tumbled out of her mouth, about how she had stayed with him despite the pain, the bruises. She had only been young. She hadn’t known better. Now she had found better.
We will only need each other, we’ll bleed together.