Keep it light. Keep it jokes and summer shit, nothing deeper. Or I don't know. Maybe I just pull away altogether. That thought hits like a punch.
Pulling away means no late-night rides.
No fake kisses.
No real kisses.
No hand on his thumb when he panics.
No watching him get brave in front of people who hurt him. Christ. This is fucking killing me.
Another tear slips out. I wipe it away angrily. However much I like him, I've got to choke this thing out before it chokes me.
Or him.
I can't fall for him more than I already have.
I just can't. I won't let myself. I know how this story ends.
It's either him shattered or me shattered or both.
And he already had enough shit. I'll do whatever it takes.
Joke more.
Touch less.
Make him think I don't take any of this seriously.
Push him a little away if I have to.
Let him walk back to his perfect, safe life thinking this was just a crazy summer.
I'll deal with it. I always do.
But he… he's not allowed to leave here broken because of me. I shut my eyes.
For a second I imagine a different universe where I don't have to let go. Where he stays. Where no one cares.
It hurts worse than reality.
No falling in love, Fontana. Not with him. Not all the way. Don't you fucking dare.
41) Spain Is Waiting
Rava
I'm dying. Whatisthis.
I feel like a shaved raisin that's been left out in the sun all day to dry.
I'm going to cry.
And I have a meeting in forty minutes. In forty minutes I'm supposed to transform back into a functioning human being.
I drag myself up and rub my eyes over and over.
I'm definitely going to have to google again "how to cure a hangover fast. "I turn around and see Daisy at the edge of my room, also sitting there like a corpse.
