I adjust my rearview mirror so I don't have to watch his fallen face as I drive away for the last time, not knowing where to go next. Never will I go back to that spot, that bench, where the best times of my life happened. The best times were my worst, because I found out I was being fooled the whole time. How could anyone keep up a lie like that? How could the guilt not have eaten him from the inside out? I fell for his lies. I knew it was too good to be true. I fell for him the first time around, so I was bound to do it again. How could I have believed that he had changed? I know how. He's just so perfect. Perfect hair. Perfect charm. Heck, he even lied perfectly. So why did he look so crestfallen when I drove away? Shouldn't he have looked smug since he got me to believe him for so long? This doubt gnaws in my stomach, until I brush it away with a, "No way!" and keep driving down the path to get away from him. A path I should have taken a long time ago. I straighten up in the driver's seat and proceed to who-knows-where. I'm so much better off without him, though I can't help but miss those big brown eyes and his hand in mine. Maybe he was telling the truth after all...