Page 561 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

my boots scuffing sidewalk.

Every muscle in my body’s flexing,

wanting me to run to him.

I am ready to not give a fuck about what happened. I just want to be in his arms for five seconds. I just want to be wrapped up in him, with his voice in my ear, his mouth in my hair.

Only for five seconds.

Okay—six seconds.

And then he looks up,

the light catching his face.

It’s not him.

Then suddenly, I’m colder.

I’m fucking colder.

I drag hard on the cigarette,

the paper burning all the way down,

trying to replace the ache with nicotine.

I tell myself it’s limerence.

I tell myself one day he’ll leave.

I tell myself I’ll be okay.

66 / LET HER CRY

HOOTIE & THE BLOWFISH

// JAN 10, 3:48 AM - PENTHOUSE - UPPER EAST SIDE, NYC //

The view out here is painfully beautiful.

The glass towers of the city tangle with the stars, same way limbs tangle during sex.

I left the terrace doors wide open, letting winter pour into the penthouse ‘cause I want it cold.

I want it to freeze me as I am now.

A girl who fell in love with a boy.

And I never want to heal from him.

I want to spend the rest of my days with the hurt of him inside me.

That’s the sick part I’ve learned over these last nine days. Andrew's the first pain in my life that feels like mine instead of something that's been done to me.

So while Andrew carries panties in his pocket, I carry the ache that comes with loving him, and no one can take that away.

Not even Andrew.