The Fall Before Flight

by L.M. Halloran

“And what do you think I’m trying to do?” Through my teeth, I say, “Break me.”

I think you’re complicated, and passionate, and terrified of the depth at which you feel things. It’s easier for you to pretend you don’t feel anything at all. A coping mechanism.”

“He scares me. So I wanted to scare him back.”

“The truth? Fine. I’ve wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Damn you, Amelia. Damn your sarcasm, your lies, your eyes that tell me more than your mouth ever has, your scent that drives me crazy, and your beautiful, wounded heart. You’re goddamn perfect and I’m going straight to hell.” And he kisses me.

Have you considered that not knowing who you are means you can be whoever you want to be?”

“I don’t think anything went wrong, exactly,” I say slowly. “Maybe some of us just feel things more deeply. So deeply we try to make it stop however we can.”

Regret lives in the past and fear in the future, but neither exist in the present.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers softly, fiercely. “If I could have found you in another time, another place…”

“You aren’t—have never been—the destructive person you think you are. You’re… a force of nature. A perfect wave. Everyone who has tried to ride that wave has wiped out, but mark my words, every one of them would give anything to ride it again. Even for a few seconds.”