I knew then, when I saw my father walk out, that there was no such thing as love.
I had seen my parents marriage and I wondered if that was how it was supposed to be.
How could these people love each other? I asked myself as I listened to them arguing late a night when they thought I was sleeping.
It gave me a sense that love was nothing more than a story, something you told children so they wouldn’t lose their faith in the concept of family.
So when my father walked out, never to return, I knew there was no such thing as love.
I had seen it, I had seen love, and I didn’t want any part of it.
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Categories: flash fiction