The Lie I Still Carry

It's been almost fifteen years, and I still think about it. About him. His name was Mark, and we were… well, young and dumb. College, parties, the usual. He really liked me. I could tell. He was sweet, always trying to do nice things, always listening. I liked him too, but not… not like that. And I couldn't tell him.

See, I was sleeping with his roommate. A real jerk, honestly. Total opposite of Mark. But, you know, hormones and bad decisions. Anyway, Mark finally asked me to be his girlfriend, all nervous and hopeful. And I said yes.

I went along with it for weeks. Weeks of dates and hand-holding and feeling like the biggest piece of garbage on earth. Eventually, the roommate found someone else, and I dumped Mark, making up some stupid excuse about needing to focus on school. He was crushed. I saw it in his eyes. And I never told him the truth.

He deserved better. He deserved to know why. And I was too cowardly to admit what I'd done. I hope he found someone amazing. I really do. But the guilt… it just never goes away. Sometimes, late at night, I wonder what would have happened if I'd just been honest.