If This Is Love

by Jewel E. Ann

To all the mean girls in school, I forgive you.

I love Milo Odell. Maybe one day I’ll marry him. But I’ll wait to tell him my thoughts about our future.

But for years, he’s been mine. My friend. My family. My protector. My angel. My Milo. And before long, he’s going to be Jolene’s husband. And it’s going to crush me.

I feel this touch in my chest—a gentle hand squeezing my heart, but not claiming it.

Can he read my mind? Does he know I can’t look at him and not think, “my Milo?”

“What do you see when you look at me?” I whisper before risking another glance up at him. “My grave, Indie.” He shoves half the sandwich into my hand and brushes past me. “I see my fucking grave.”

But your touch is still on my skin. I wonder if a day will come when I don’t feel your touch?” I laugh a little, and it’s a pain in the pit of my stomach. “I hope so because it hurts.”

“Indie girl … I’m gonna kiss you. And it’s not gonna change anything, but it’s gonna mean everything. Okay?”

“You’re the sun … so fucking bright, blindingly beautiful.” Milo kisses up my neck to my jaw, my cheek, and back to my mouth.

“If I could go anywhere in the world, Indie … it would be inside of you.”

“But you will be mine,” she says. I’m not sure I’m hearing her correctly, but then she glances back at me. “You will marry Jolene, but you will never be hers.”

Peeling open his eyes, he lowers to his elbows on either side of me, slowly dragging his tongue up my body, eyes hooded. I feel claimed in every way humanly possible.

“You were made for me, Indie girl.”

Just give me Milo, and I’ll leave everything else—my car, my clothes, my bank account, food, shelter … everything. Just give me Milo.

I’m not sure something is always better than nothing. Sometimes, nothing hurts less.”

“It’s too late. It’s already something, and it already hurts.”

“Indiana Ellington … I love you too.” With a single blink, a tsunami of tears surges down my face. If this is love, then love is overrated. No. It’s flat-out cruel.

If this is love, why is it wrong? If this is love, why can’t we be together? If this is love, why does it hurt my heart so much? If this is love … I don’t want to live without it. Without him.

Love … it’s every possible emotion stuffed into the heart—stretching, wriggling, bubbling until you reach that thin line separating euphoria and complete despair. I feel both in equal parts. This kind of love can’t exist without the promise of pain.

“Sometimes, happiness is fleeting. But I can now say that when I die, I’ll have known that feeling. I’ll remember how it felt to be home, if only for a few breaths. I’ll remember it forever; I’ll remember you forever.”

“Life isn’t fair, Indie girl. But as long as you’re alive, it’s really fucking beautiful. As long as you’re alive, there’s a reason to open my eyes, stand up, and breathe in and out.”

“Can I go to my favorite place?” he whispers. I grin, closing my eyes. “What took you so long to ask?”

You have me. For how long? For as long as you need. Forever?

The world has fucked us over and over. It’s time to fuck the world and everyone who won’t let us be together.

I love him. He loves me. Why isn’t that enough?

Even now, when we are out of time, he steals extra seconds to dress me. Care for me. Love me.

“Be free. I know this hurts, baby. It hurts so much. Be everything you were meant to be.”

“How do you know if someone loves you?” “A look. A touch. Sometimes it’s just a feeling.”

I bury my face into her neck and breathe. She’s lavender and sunshine. She’s hope.

“Remember when you used to ask me to lasso the moon for you? Well, now I lasso it for Indie. That should tell you how much she means to me.”

Am I deserving of Indiana? Probably not. I hope she never figures that out.

“Milo, how long can I have you?” “As long as you need,” he says. “Forever?”