When I Was You

by Minka Kent

“Money talks, wealth whispers,” and it’s a motto I’ve always tried to live by.

Perception is everything. And at the end of the day, people believe what they want to believe, and no one wants to believe someone who looks so nice could be anything but.

I held my breath as we made small talk, and I breathed a sigh of relief when she didn’t ask me to fill out a formal background check (her first mistake).

I mean, how can a man not notice that a woman has disengaged herself from a conversation? That she’s only half listening? It’s all about the nuances. The little things. If she’s playing with her hair or she can’t stop smiling, she’s into you. If she sighs or acts distracted, get the hell away because she doesn’t have time for you. It’s so simple. Honestly. Too simple.

I might not be the most compassionate man to walk this earth, but I can appreciate a pacifying quality in others when the time is right.

All the horrible things she said and did, it was because she was hurting, and hurt people hurt other people.

In the end, it’ll all be okay. And if it isn’t okay, it isn’t the end. I’m quite certain this is the end.

Besides, it might be kind of nice going to bed at night without a care in the world. No car payments. No utility bills. No soul-sucking job to report to bright and early every morning. In a weird sort of way, Sonya’s wish for me is coming true after all.

It’s time to get away, to find a place a little less perfect, a little less isolating. I want to experience it all so I can put the past behind me.