Sweet, Marilyn

"This whole goddamn time, you've been lying to me?"
My voice began to crack and I instantly hated myself for it. I felt my hands clench, I tried not showing any aggression towards her so I turned around, placing one hand on the wall and the other on my hip.
"I FUCKING trusted you." I turned to face her, a sob escaping my lips, the burning tears falling down my face as I brushed my hair away with my hand.
I expected her to say, or cry, or do something. Show some type of emotion, but she just stood there.
And for a second the anger went away, which irritated me even more.
She had the ability to make someone go from hating her one moment, to absolutely adoring her the next.
She always managed to look picture perfect, even with her hair sticking to her lip gloss and her mascara smeared on her pimple free face.
That was her.
My dear, sweet Marilyn.