I've got a suspicion. Don't tell me if I'm right. Don't drop any hints or look me in the eyes. I won't pay attention to things that I see. I'll try not to listen to what they tell me. And if I ask you, well, I know you can lie. Just like you've been doing for this whole time. I know that you know there were teeth marks on your neck, but I chose to believe they were from me. I know that you know there were scratches on your back, but I ignored them and I said nothing. And it hurts me to think about, to look back on all the times when you said you were too drunk to remember but you knew that wasn't right. Did you think I wouldn't find out, did you think I'd never know, that you were having sex behind the 7-11 while I was waiting for you to come home?
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