A First Reflection

I only knew her for a couple months. But the way she spoke to me, the way we talked on the phone, it wasn’t hard to grow attached. Or maybe it was that she wanted me to grow attached, so my tears could entertain her when it all ended in a bloodbath. Though it’s been a while, I don’t think I’ll ever know what was real and what wasn’t. Was she just reeling me in so she could trash me just as fast? Or what if it was real and she had good intentions? I chose to believe the first one, for it was better to have someone to blame instead of myself. After the emotional rollercoaster that took a year’s worth of saline to overcome, I hadn’t expected more. Yet she contacted me one last time, and it angered me. After all, how dare she do all of this to me and pretend nothing happened? Then I found out what she’d told my friends, the way she’d victimized herself. Although I know her truthfully now, I still find myself missing the affection and endearment I felt, but then ridiculing myself for grieving something that was probably never real.