“Why are you sharing this with me?” That’s the best you can come up with? The girl is basically telling you she likes you, and you’re fucking it up. I’m an idiot. That’s the damn truth. She laughs again, her smile banishing my thoughts. “I wanted to share the one thing that makes me vulnerable.” “Why?” “Because we all have weaknesses, Santiago. You believe yours is how you’re missing a leg, and I think mine is my crippling loneliness and preference for wishing instead of doing. I make wishes to combat the emptiness I feel from all the disappointments in my life. Wishes are the closest thing I
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