Same Time Next Year

by Tessa Bailey

“Not everyone needs a person.” He concedes this with a nod. “Maybe that’s true. But even if you’re strong alone, when someone wades into your lake and you feel something . . . if you choose to ignore it, maybe that strength is actually just something else in disguise.” “Weakness?” “Fear.”

Can you not see that I’m starving to death for you? Can’t you tell I missed you so horribly that my family couldn’t even make me smile?

“Learn to love me too,” I demand, in my own vulnerable state where my head and heart and lust are in a jumble, and I have zero control over what comes out of my mouth. “Love me like I love you.”