Words – they heal, they build, and they break. An entire nation can be built up with a mere speech; and broken down like calamities and failures just as much. 

And I don’t regret it one bit, if only to see your carefree smile or a happy glance, tossed free on the breeze.

It wasn’t always like this. Sullen looks, a firm set jaw and hooded eyes used to be your trademark. Everyone could recognise the dark hunched figure in the corner. I still didn’t regret telling you. The truth will set you free. I couldn’t stand it – the lies. A caged bird. It had to be set free. But you didn’t see that, at first. You didn’t realise I wasn’t being cruel, malicious or spiteful. I’m kind old me, the good old cheerful shadow. The daybreak.

And the daybreak chases away the shadows. They haunted you, don’t you see? I guess you didn’t. I have a way of hiding in the recesses of your mind, never quite there but always a shadowy presence. It wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t resist the words which came leaping to my mouth like a joyful song. I couldn’t resist the temptation of emotions, gossip, spite – but not from me, my dear, but from the others. The spite dripping from their lips in honey-silk waves.

And he lived up to their expectations, of course he did. He was the big shot, the one with the cash in his pocket and a silver-wheeled car at his fingertips. He was no good for you. And I could fix that, I knew how.

You were sitting there alone, and I couldn’t help myself, couldn’t, wouldn’t (shouldn’t? No – I should have held myself back, there’s a time, there’s a place, and this was neither). But you were happy with him and I couldn’t break that – or could I? Scarred skin is stronger than unmarred flesh.

And from my lips those three little words left. Words – they heal, and they break. And sometimes – just, sometimes – they are the glue of love, and the scalpel of separation.

“He used you.”