I knew perfectly well what my answer would do to him, what my answer would make him do to me.
Even though what I had just said was a plain, white lie, I said it aloud. I wanted my words to hurt him. I wanted him to feel bad just the same way that I was feeling.
I felt his breaths turning heavy, and I knew I had gotten what I needed.
His anger meant his pain. It reminded me again what I mattered to him. How much he loved me. And his pain meant my pain.
I felt the excruciating physical pain running down in every vein inside my body. I was feeling what he was feeling. His anger, his pain, his hurt upon hearing my words and his hate towards me for saying them, everything was running through my body like shards of glasses without seeing him utter even a word about those feelings out of his
