The Ex Vows

by Jessica Joyce

I’ll watch him test versions of nicknames with other friends, but mine will only ever be Peach. When I eventually ask him why, he’ll tell me it’s because he knew exactly who I was to him from the start.

It’s an addicting feeling, knowing I’m in the middle of meeting a person I’ll get to hang on to.

Sometimes I swear adulthood is staring at your phone and wondering which of your friends has enough time to deal with your latest emotional meltdown, then realizing none of them do.

My emotions are never simple, but tonight they’re especially knotted: happiness and fear and guilt for being afraid of what might change. A sense that this is a goodbye to an era that shaped me. The fear, again, that maybe it’s a bigger goodbye, too.

It’s a gift to know someone when you’re in love with them, and a curse when you’re out of it.

“All the best things are scary,” Jamie says, squeezing my hand.

“It’s not going perfectly. Doesn’t mean it’s not right.”