Out on a Limb

by Hannah Bonam-Young

“It’s bizarre to live more life than the person who gave me mine…” he says, his voice far off.

And I think assholes like Jack would take anyone as kind as you and try to twist them into something ugly. That’s what people like him do. It isn’t your fault you tried to see the best in him. Or that you didn’t want to be alone. You’ve gotta forgive yourself for that.”

But I like that about us humans. How willfully blind we can be to the gloomy realities ahead.

I have a feeling Bo would love me better at half capacity than anyone else ever could at their fullest.

I don’t question if it’s a good choice or a bad one or worry about all it could ruin. Because when you love someone this much, when you’ve seen their hurt and their heart and you recognize them as your own—you’re left with no choice but to give yourself over to it. And I’m tired of being scared. I long to be loved by a man like Bo. I long to love him, the way he deserves. Our souls were tied a long time ago, I think. We’re just finally admitting it to each other.

What I mean is I want him inside me. But not only in the way he will inevitably be soon. But burned inside of me. Like lightning hitting a tree and starting a fire from within. I want him, his life, his lessons, his soul and its impressions to be branded under my

I kiss him because I’m grateful, even though I’m often terrible at showing it. I kiss him because he truly does want to take care of me. I kiss him because I think I’m going to let him. I kiss him because I love him. More and more each day.

I brush my hand over Bo’s hair and onto his cheek. Reveling in the simple notion that he is real. That someone could love me this much. Choose to fill me up instead of pour me out. Build a fire to keep me warm instead of burn me out.

I mean that it feels like my heart is on the outside of my body,” he says, his voice low. “And I miss you so much, even when you’re just a few feet away. I think about you every second of the day and struggle to think of much else.