He told me about the year-end bonus he was receiving and I smiled and told him I knew he’d do great. Then I admitted, “I had a bad day… I’ll tell you about it, just don’t look at me” and buried my face in his chest when I told him about how I was struggling.
Whenever I asked him to hold me, he did. He was so solid, so warm. I remember the way he used to look at me. Somehow, he was living a double life too. I don’t know which version of him was real. At the time, I was sure the version of myself I was giving him was real but now I’m not sure it was.
I think he was the last one to hold me like that. It took me a while to recover from all the ways he broke me. Certainly, I’m not the same starry eyed girl but I found a way back to a version of myself that’s real.
There was this other guy. I wanted him to hold me but I was too afraid so I let go before he had the chance to. Because in the end, they all let go anyways, don’t they?