And I did. I burned and I burned until it was like my body had turned to ash, unbearably light, ready to float away if he didn’t keep me grounded. Against him, against his lips. This kiss wasn’t pretending. It wasn’t theoretical. He was kissing me because he wanted to. Because he was reaching out to someone who would understand, who had been feeling all the same pain and worry, and it was a way for him to connect. For us to connect.
