All That's Left in the World

by Erik J. Brown

I don’t know why this person is so damn important. Then it hits me. It’s because it feels like love.

I feel safe when he’s with me and I want him to feel safe, too.

I would like him to be thinking about me. It makes me feel a little less strange if he thinks about me, too.

Let’s be clear on one thing. It’s fucking torture having the boy you’re in love with sleeping in the same bed as you. Like, right next to you.

I lock eyes with him. Half his face is cast in shadow and there’s sadness there, but something else in his eyes. He seems hopeful. Maybe. Is this … are we having a moment? Like a romantic moment?

Are you trying to tell me you love me?’ ‘Thank you, yes. I am. I love you.’ I’m crying now. And I will always love you.’

‘You make me feel safe. Like the world hasn’t ended and there’s nothing left. Because I have you.’

If things get hard again, I’ll carry him. And he’ll carry me. And we’ll be OK.