Long after you left, we’d meet once in a while, and you’d smile at me like you had a thousand times before. But these smiles felt different. Not necessarily untrue, but gratingly difficult to watch—because they were the smiles you’d greet an old friend with.
That’s what I was now. An old friend.
Those smiles broke my heart every time. They unwittingly erased a painful but important truth—the truth that we were once lovers. Those smiles pretended I was nothing more than one of many. A somewhat, but not very, important person from your past.
There are so many ways to lie. I never thought smiling would be one of them.
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