Every Lie Has a Shadow

I See You

The signs were there for years — I just wasn’t looking.
I was buried in renovations, building what I thought would be our forever home.

I saw the long blonde hair on your jacket, in the truck.
I noticed the seat pushed back every time I got in, the spotless interior, the shifts in your routine.
I told you I couldn’t pay the Visa because you were always draining the joint account.

I should have looked closer —
at the missing paycheques,
the insurance you cashed in,
the pensions you used.
The contract you switched to be closer to her work,
while she was still a student at the visitor centre.

The vacations you both took.
The new cars tucked safely away.
The fake work trips, the gifts,
the phone spoofing,
the rentals, the lines of credit —
money moving in and out,
while I was here, year after year,
finishing our home with what money I made from the last reno.

I saw your cell activity double, then triple,
but brushed it off —
I wasn’t looking for it.

I see you now.

I Know Now

I know what you’ve done — someone finally told me.
But a student?
A girl you watched grow up in your friend’s home?

How do you justify that?
How do you live with yourself knowing the line you crossed?

I used to think I missed the signs,
but no one should have to look that hard
to see the monster behind the mask.

You Began to Plan

You began to plan in Nova Scotia,
right after you came home from Ontario.
The timing makes sense now —
the distance, the secrecy,
the late nights and quiet phone calls.

You were building your next life
while I was still trying to hold together ours.

I see you.
I know what you’ve done.

The Silent Treatment

The silent treatment worked —
it kept me spinning, small,
focused on fixing what you broke
while you slipped away unseen.

You vacationed.
You stole from me.
You built your secret life with the money meant for our future.

All the while, I was busy trying to earn your love back,
not realizing silence was your weapon.
And when it wasn’t silence, it was threats —
to take the only thing I had left.

I was your distraction.

Then What?

So she finished school — then what?
Was I to be discarded?
Replaced once your secret life was ready?

What kind of man does this —
keeps someone trapped in confusion and silence,
pretending love while plotting an escape?

You let me believe in forever
while you planned my ending.

Were you going to drain the rest of our pension first?
Buy another car?
Fill another bank account?

How did you become this?
What kind of man does that?

Blind Sided

I know what you’re capable of now.
But then, I was blind sided —
so sure it was me, just as you suggested.

Every problem, every silence,
you made it my fault.
You twisted every story until I couldn’t trust my own memory.
And when you did speak,
you rewrote the truth so convincingly
that I carried your guilt as my own.

You trained me to doubt myself —
and I did, until I couldn’t anymore.

The Truth

All of this — because you couldn’t get caught.
Your image mattered more than anything.
If people found out, you’d be nothing, right?
Empty — as you’ve always been.

You feed on others.
You take the best of them,
then play the victim when things fall apart,
so you never have to face what you are.

That’s how you entered my life over twenty-two years ago —
as a victim.
You played me then to gain.
And now you play society the same way —
to gain again.

Planned Cruelty

Do they all know what you’ve done?
Not likely.

I’m sure you’ve painted me as the crazy one —
the bitter wife who was never satisfied,
the one who waited too long for a life that never began.

“We” waited here for you.
Year after year.
We waited for time, for laughter,
for a simple holiday you’d never allow us.

You called it finances, fatigue, priorities.
But now I see it for what it was —
planned cruelty.

A strategy to keep me small,
to keep me from waking up to your double life.

They Know Me

You stole my light.
You stole every day.
Lies upon lies — endless lies.

They know me.
They won’t believe you,
because they don’t actually know you.

Do you really think people don’t see it?
They do.
They catch that flicker,
that glimpse behind the mask.

There is no such thing as perfect people as you pretend to be,
and when they see the crack in your performance,
they’ll feel the chill of what’s underneath.

And when they do,
you’ll discard them too —
just like you did me,
just like you always do
once they serve no purpose for you.

Reality Always Catches Up

Reality will catch up to you.
I reached out for help that day —
to the police, to anyone who would listen.

You can’t hide forever.
Not behind silence.
Not behind blaming me anymore.
Not behind your carefully crafted stories,
or the image you built to protect yourself from truth.

Reality has a way of peeling back masks —
one by one —
until all that’s left
is what you really are.

Carlin