GOODBYE CYNARA by r2

I have been faithful to you, Cynara, in my fashion. You know it. I know it. Oh sure, there have been other women. I’ve looked at them, checked them out, maybe even flirted with them. But I’m a man. That’s the way I’m wired. And face it, the crowd we run with has some great looking babes. I’ve never, never, had another woman in the way I’ve had you. I’ve never even dreamed of it. Never.

But you, you’ve broken our sacred trust. You’ve been with other men. Or, at least, one other man. Don’t tell me it isn’t true. I saw the pictures. Hell, they were all over the internet and in the gossip rags. Of course, they never showed you doing the deed. But I know. I can tell by the way you were holding his arm. I know. You know I know. Don’t even try to deny it.

How could you? Did you think I wouldn’t find out? Did you think I wouldn’t see the pictures? Wasn’t what we had enough for you? What could he give you that I couldn’t? What more could you want? What did Mr. Pretty Boy have that I don’t? I know he’s had plenty of women, that’s for sure. I read the magazines. I had only you. You were my one and only. You were the woman in my life. Singular. One woman. You. You were everything. And now, you’re nothing.

It’s over. You and me. We’re over. Our life is over. Your life is over.

What do I mean? It means, after today, I will never see you again. No one will ever see you again. That’s right, it’s the end of the line for you and me. It’s the end for you.

Maybe we should do it one more time. Just once more. For old times’ sake. One last good night together. What do you think? You seem like you’re willing. But, no. I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’d rather not. I’d rather just end it. Now. Right now. While I still have the rage inside me.

So, I’ll start the fire. The cleansing fire. Strike the match. Light the tinder. This will burn Mr. Pretty boy out of you. Out of your pores. Get his handprints off your body. Will it hurt? Well, yea. But you hurt me. You deserve a little pain. But it should be over soon. Soon, I can walk away from the ashes of our romance. Soon the memories of you will blow away like smoke in the air.

I’ll close the pages on us. I’ll throw the magazine on the flames and watch your face burn, turn black and curl. And you’ll be gone.

And then I’ll move on to another. Another woman. Another month.