As we slowed—hanging upside-down, spinning some—we met each other’s gaze. She wore this honest smile that I hated to see leave. “Thank you,” she panted, out of breath from excitement and adrenaline. “For what?” “For doing this with me,” she said, “so I didn’t have to be alone.” It was then. That I fucking knew how much I really understood her. How much I related to the loneliness in her eyes. I felt closer to her in a way that I couldn’t articulate. It wasn’t physical. Or mental. It was spiritual, something I couldn’t shake. I nodded a couple times, and she practically radiated. As though she
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