It was work.
I had told her that before.
That I would never change.
That work would always come first.
I had told her everything.
And she told me she understood.
But she didn’t.
She wanted me to be someone else.
Someone I could never be.
Someone I didn’t want to be.
I had told her who I was from the beginning.
I had told her I wasn’t going to change.
And I thought she had been okay with that.
Apparently, I had been wrong.
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Categories: flash fiction