I’d hoped we could have that magical fairy-tale ending, too. But no—I realize that’s what I’ve always told myself, but that isn’t what I wanted, not really. I wanted to fall in love, but I didn’t want to risk the kind of love that’d fill me with excitement and joy. I know that love. It’s the kind of love I feel when I think about Ezra—when he laughs one of his loud-as-fuck laughs and when he says stupid shit when he’s high and when he holds me to his chest while we sleep. I love Ezra. I love him so much, it scares me.
