Four months ago he left me. He left me standing alone at the train station as he waved goodbye behind closing train doors.
He left me alone with final words that hurt me so deeply they still linger in raw memory as if I heard him say them yesterday.
But the part that causes me the most pain is that he said them intending to be amicable. He said them thinking he was nice. He said them believing he cared.
He left me alone at the train station content with his departing words - absolved of his guilt and shame. Like a Pontius Pilate he simply washed his hands of my life and all I brought to his.
As I watched the doors slowly close on his face, I saw his eyes fill with pity but his faked smile flood with relief. And I knew - knowing him so deeply - that was the last time he would ever think of me again. He knew it just as well and that was why he was relieved.
And in truth, it doesn’t even matter what he said. What does matter was that my life went numb in that moment and I have yet to regain feeling.
