It wasn’t a touch that said I need more. It was a touch that said I want this.

It was a strangely disorienting feeling, to have something you'd relied on for so long start to change, like finding out that gravity no longer worked on Mondays.

Mum liked to say that some things happen for a reason, that sometimes obstacles were there to stop you from doing something stupid.

I thought, possibly, that what I really needed was to go where nobody knew me and start over again, with none of my previous decisions, conversations, or expectations coming with me.

sensitive," I tried. Sam translated, "squishy." "creative." "Dangerously Emo." "thoughtful." Feng shui.

She leaned toward me, offering her neck, and I kissed her just behind her ear.

I had risked everything, and I had nothing to show for it but my open hand, lying empty and palm up toward the ceiling.