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July 7 - July 7, 2025
“I’m coming to Paris with you.”
“No, baby. I’m moving to Paris with you.”
“If I was joking, then why did I just tell The New York Times that I’ll be moving to Paris?”
“Because when you find out the person you’ve been in love with for your entire life loves you back, you’ll spend the rest of your life making up for lost time.”
“We’re going to Paris, baby.”
It was one of the first real things I had seen of his in a long time. Proof that he existed and traveled and purchased things for himself not realizing that one day they’d just be things again, no longer his.
No one tells you how much losing someone feels like inheriting a dream. Because that’s what thinking of him felt like: a dream. For him to have been here for decades, and then to only exist in my pictures and memories. I’d like to imagine that if I hadn’t developed object permanence as a child, then maybe my mind would’ve had an easier time accepting that he wasn’t here anymore.
At sixteen, I fell in love with Levi when he drove me home from work, letting me sleep in the passenger’s seat, despite only being a short walk away. I fell in love with him when he twirled his finger around strands of my hair while we talked in the cafeteria, like it was an unquestionable habit. I fell in love with him as I watched him bake for his sisters
I fell in love with him for who he was. At twenty-two, I fell in love with him because of how he made me feel.
“I bought this for you for graduation; it matched the gold earrings you wore all the time.” Obviously, we weren’t speaking at the time, so he wore mine too. I looked down at my hand now in class, where his ring sat on my finger.
“I did. I thought it’d been a while since we spent a Sunday night together.”
I beamed at him. My heart was jumping in my chest at the sight of the handsome, loving man in front of me. A thousand flower petals falling to the bottom of my stomach.
“That sounds perfect.” “Ready to go home?” he asked. “...
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It was home, she was home. How did you tell someone that you wanted this every day, every morning, hour, and night of your life? I was pathetic. If she knew just
how weak I was when she dragged her hand up the back of my neck, let alone when she kissed me, she’d be horrified. Seeing her with Ethan earlier made me want to rip my eyes out. Having to watch as some man flirted with her and pretending that it didn’t flood my chest with jealously was like standing on hot coals.
