Said it was my fault. I agreed. But only to him. I can’t blame myself. There was more to it than that. So much more. But that’s the way it goes. H...’s over and done with me and I sit here rotting. Waiting for the scar tissue around the hole in my mind (where all of the things I believed about him have been distorted, warped, changed and ripped out) to harden. Waiting for the scars across my torn fingerprints to close and fade into one of the many lines that say so much without speaking. He. She'd started out by taking the first beer her husband, Rob, handed her and Lisa had quickly guzzled that down. She knew if she drank enough beer especially that she'd have to go to the bathroom to pee more often, but she didn't mind that and it gave her a chance to go touch up her makeup and even possibly exchange some hot gossip or some naughty caresses and kisses with some of the other wives and girlfriends there that night.When Lisa returned to the party, she began to feel the effects of. More

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