I can still hear the sound of my hand colliding with your cheek. The resounding ‘smack’, even now, six years later.
Do you know they call me an ‘ice queen ’now? That I’m a bitch extraordinaire? That I take what I want from men, just as you took from me?
A part of me died that day; the day I found out I wasn’t the only one you professed to love.
You didn’t see anything wrong with having three girlfriends.
I’m an independent woman now, not a puppy to follow you around.
Men follow me around now.
I spin my silky web and mercilessly trap my flies.
I’m the top marketing sales rep in my region, bringing in millions of dollars every quarter. I have a nice home, a nice car, and I’m lonely as fuck, but I think I prefer it that way.
I don’t know where you are, nor do I care. Years down the line and I have no idea what happened to the only man I ever loved.