“No one’s ever cared about me like that.
“No one's ever looked out for me?—
“Not fuckin’ anyone.
“Not even my moms.”
He squints. “And I wish it wasn’t true.
“But it is.
“And that’s really fuckin’ sad.”
And this truth hurts,
fucking me up in the chest.
“That night…
“I don’t think you meant to, but you made me feel like I wasit.” He raises his palms. “Like I was your whole fuckin’ world for a second.”
The silence sits, then he shakes his head,
smiling stunned.
“Sonny, you made me feel like I was your goddamn everything.”
His throat bobs. “That night—it was like one second I'm standin' there with you, and the next, I'm rushin'intoyou?—”
A laugh rushes out of him,
like nothing he says will make sense,
so may as well just keep going?—
“Then you weren't just in my arms, you werein me. Like we just crumbled into a million pieces. And we didn't know whose pieces were whose anymore, so we were just... there, a fuckin' mess. You and me. And I been tryin’ to forget what that night felt like ever since—I can’t. And every time I convince myself it was just a moment, just one night... Not afuckin'second goes by, and—fuck. You're still rippin’ through me. I'm still in pieces with you. I'm still standin', in fuckin' pieces—not put back together.” He shrugs. "Maybe because I can't be put back together the same as before. We're too mixed up now."
I haven’t taken a breath.
Not since he started talking.
I should’ve passed out by now.
But he keeps going,
and my lungs keep forgetting?—
“With you, I’m not some hookup or object or a fuckin’ mouth. You don’t want anything from me, don’t expect anything from me, don’t need me tobeanything ordoanything.
“You just wantme.”
“And that’s why, with you,
“I can fuckin’ breathe.”
Then he’s looking at me, squinting
like I don’t get it.
