I can tell when people lie.
Like a spider sense, it was a tingle, an emptiness, but it was there and it always brought a storm.
A tingle
When I was a toddler I knew Santa Claus wasn't real.
A tingle
When I was a kid I knew my parents weren't coming back.
A tingle
When I was teen I knew they never understood that their insults affected me.
A tingle
And when I was an adult I knew they did love me after I told them.
A smile
Imagine my surprise when I met someone who loved me.
A grin
I could tell, the way they smiled, they never lied.
A memory
So I proposed.
A truth
I was so nervous, but I was happy, they were to.
A fondness
I stood and watched them walk down the aisle.
A tear
Ten years later, imagine the dread I felt when I felt that familiar tingle when they told me :
I was alone.
. . .
A lie.
