I can tell when people are telling the truth.
It's like a small tickle, and for a society that values honesty so much, I hardly ever feel it.
A tickle.
When I was a toddler, I knew that my mom meant it every time she said ' I love you ' .
A tickle.
When I was a kid, i knew they meant it when they called me weird.
A tickle.
When I was a teen, I knew that my first boyfriend meant it when he said he'd never really loved me.
A tickle.
When I was an adult, I knew they meant it when they said I was their world.
A smile.
Imagine my surprise, someone who loved me.
A laugh.
I could tell, they way their eyes lit up like the sun, that they always told the truth.
A memory.
So they proposed.
A truth.
They were nervous, we both were, and that was okay.
A fondness.
They stood there and watched me walk down the aisle.
A tear.
Ten years later, I wish i could go back and change the day I lied to you.
A mistake.
Ten years later, I wish i could take it all back.
A regret.
Ten years later, I wish I could look into your eyes and see constellations all over again.
A thought.
Ten years later, I wish i could go back and say the words I never lied about :
I love you.
. . .
A truth told ten years to late.
