Not About Him: Part Three

Not the smile he wears, or the way he stays just far enough back to pretend it’s a coincidence. Not the silence in his footsteps, or the way he avoids her eyes just long enough to make her wonder if she imagined it all. It’s the not knowing that feels the most dangerous. The guessing. The what-ifs that scream louder than anything he could say. It’s the way the world taught her not to trust her own fear. To question herself before she ever questions him. Because if she turns around and nothing happens, She's “crazy.” But if she doesn’t— and something does… So she keeps walking, heart thudding against her ribs like it’s trying to escape before she does. She doesn’t run. She doesn’t confront. She just survives— the only way she knows how. So now you know why she’s scared. She’s not scared of him. She’s scared of his lust. Of what it means. Of how little it takes for something to go wrong.