If This Gets Out

by Sophie Gonzales

there was no sign, not a single sign, but there must have been a sign.

I think he has no idea how this is happening. And like, same.

I don’t want to shut this down, but I don’t want to open it up.

The thing about your dreams coming true is that, for a gold-spun moment, you catch a glimpse of what life could be like. Then when you lose it, and you crash back to reality, it’s from such a great height, all you can do is lie there, winded and bruised, while you come to terms with the idea that a happiness like that isn’t meant for you. It never was.

I know I have a brain that attacks itself constantly, which means I never know when the negative thoughts I have are the truth or not.

“There’s something I want to tell you, like, about me, but it’s really hard to say.” “You know, I’ve spent a lot of time theorizing about what might have been going on in your head over the last week. I can run some theories by you, and if one of them sounds accurate, you can nod or something? Would that make it easier?”

“Keep trying,” I say. “This is helping.”