B.K. Borison

And isn’t it silly, to love the way someone’s things look like next to yours? Little bits and pieces of a life lived in parallel

Just because you let yourself love someone, doesn't mean they’re going to leave.”

He twists it lightly and tugs once. “I know you can take care of yourself. You’ve been doing that as long as I’ve known you. But let me hold your hand while you do it, okay?”

“Continue. Listen. You’ll find your way.”

And then she left. Again.

And unfortunately for me, I still haven’t figured out how to stop thinking about her.

Not for the first time, I’m jealous. I’ve never had that with another person. Never been able to slide into someone’s space and press my fingertips to their skin, watch them lean further into me

“I heard some of them crying, I think.”

“What?”

“The strawberries,” he explains. “I heard some of them crying.”

“It’s because their parents were in a jam, I think.”

For everyone looking for their happy.

I hope you know how brave you are.

Remembering is a slippery slope into wanting