The Conditions of Will

by Jessa Hastings

Her sister is a sommelier, so Hats doesn’t fuck around with wine, but my sister’s a narcissist so I absolutely do.

He learned young that if you make people feel seen and valued, they’re more likely to do anything for you, so he’d hold people’s gaze in a conversation and they’d hold the back door open for him when he snuck into a country to break someone out of jail, but he’d never hold anything the way he’d eventually hold me.

“Isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?” I stare up at the big arch, which is my favorite part, I think. “Even though it’s broken?” “Yep,” he says quietly, and he’s looking just at me.

And I think to myself, wouldn’t it be so lovely if we viewed ourselves through the same lens as the people who love us?