Excuse Me While I Ugly Cry

by Joya Goffney

Matt asking all these questions about my feelings for him and about Destany—none of which I’m ready to discuss.

I need to write these down, so I can stop obsessing, and so I’ll stop feeling this incessant need to turn around and tell him everything, because maybe he will understand.

Six, he could never fully understand why I feel the way I do, because he’s white.

“That journal has every detail about me. I don’t know who I am without it.”

“When are you gonna tell me what the last thing on the list is?” “Never.” He nudges his chin up. “When are you gonna trust me?”

I feel like I’m glowing, like all the parts of me that I try so hard to hide are visible to him.