“He left me in that place, Sloane. Twice.” “And now you want to be the one leaving,” she says it like it’s a fact, and the truth of it resonates deep inside of me, speaking directly to the girl I was ten years ago, to the woman I was four years ago. To all the confused and conflicted versions of me that have spent the months since his return to New Haven running to him and from him all at the same time. To the parts of me that crave his presence and fear it. That love him and hate him. That worship and rebuke him. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
