Tears well up and slide down my face. I don’t bother to wipe them away because it’s been so long since I cried, I’m almost glad to know I still can. But what is there to cry about? I married a man who turned out to be someone I didn’t know at all. A man who chose my sister over me. If there’s anything to cry about, it’s my gullibility. That I’d actually thought love lasted forever. It doesn’t. If it exists at all, it won’t last. And if you don’t expect something to last, it can’t hurt you when it finally decides to leave.
