Near Miss

by Haley Warren

I feel it in my chest—strolling across my rib cage and planting itself there, kicking its little feet right alongside the still-too-fast beating of my heart. I forget I ever wanted to be alone.

She looks at me like I’m something—not nothing—but she’s not quite sure what. As she should. Because I think I look at myself like that—I’m something, not nothing—but I’m not quite sure what either.

“Boundaries can change, and they can be established long after they were needed.

But I don’t think he wants to leave—there’s that restless energy all over him he gets when I think everything that he carries becomes too heavy and he’s trying anything he can to spread the weight around.

But when I love people, I can’t help but give myself away.

“You don’t want to be another thing I take on because I think that’s who I am. But it’s not carrying a heavy thing, to know you.”