Deep End

by Ali Hazelwood

in mimosa veritas.”

he turns to me and stares infinitely, lips parted, like I’ve suddenly shape-shifted into something new. Something instantly comprehensible to him.

I can be brave. I can be anything for noodles.

I’m busy writing an email to one Dr. Olive Smith.

His presence feels so…brutal. I’m not sure how to phrase it any better—he’s just aggressively, unyieldingly here. A command to pay attention.

a mental note for future me. Highly susceptible to inspirational messaging. Must NOT join cult.

“This is baby’s first ghosting, I’m going to need some direction,”

Maybe I thought about you after what we did. Maybe I find you interesting. Maybe I like you without being liked back. I refuse to be ashamed.

sometimes I can’t breathe when you’re around.”

I’m a mess. A failure. A ball of anxiety. All twisted. But also cozy.

I sleep better when you’re around. Scarlett: Why? Lukas: Because I know you’re safe.

That’s where it lives, my love for him. In the space between the things he could do, and what he chooses instead.

“A Midsommar miracle.”