The bright lights rushed through the ceilling and landed right on your scars, right on your left wrist. And I looked. It was one of those looks you didn't think about, you just looked there and you saw something you shouldn't of seen. Like when your roomate is undressing and you turn around and accidentily get a glimpse and you just feel so bad because some things, really, should just be private. But then you get that glimpse. Of the parts they have only seen themselves, and maybe you even get a glimpse of the parts they don't even show themselves. But you saw, you looked. And I saw. Those deep, almost faded scars and it told me everything that I needed to know: you are damaged goods. But then everything felt right, because then I showed you me too, all the dirty laundry, all the damaged goods. And thats why, that's why all this happened. That's why I'm marrying you tomorrow, and that's why I let you meet my family, even though you're not what they want for me, and thats why every tuesday night we go get doughnuts and thats why I haven't sacrificed anything for you. Because I didn't need to. You wouldn't let me.

And that- and this- is why.


Side note: I started looking through some of my drafts and found this and thought it was beautiful and its fiction but its me and I wrote this and this is something I tried to say so I should let myself say it.