“It felt like freedom, maybe; but I was spiraling. There was a...

“It felt like freedom, maybe; but I was spiraling. There was a hurricane in my head: certain addictions, and impulsive decisions that could affect me for the rest of my life. Other people would see it, and they’d say: ‘He’s so fun.’ But nobody was looking at me, really. They’d never have noticed if I was hurting myself, or if I slipped away. I got good at floating around and giving people what they want, just enough positivity, so I could get through the moment and leave a good impression. But I can’t do that with her. When I think a certain thing, she reacts. She wants to know more. And when I feel a certain way, she feels it too. Nobody’s cared like she cared, you know? I feel seen. I feel found. Like there’s something outside of me. Like somebody touched my face. Sometimes when I’m sleeping, she’ll do this thing. She’ll reach over and touch my face. She’ll just hold onto it. And that’s the image that keeps coming into my head, when I try to describe her. She touched my face.”