I See Nick's Number. I Debate Whether

He Was My First Boyfriend, And I Made Him My Everything - He Was My New Life, My New Love, My New Compass Point. I Guess That's The Danger With Firsts - You Lose All Sense Of Proportion.

We Could Call You An Ambisexual. A Duosexual. A—” “do I Really Have To Find A Word For It?” Kyle Interrupts. “can’t It Just Be What It Is?” “of Course,” I Say, Even Though In The Bigger World I’m Not So Sure. The World Loves Stupid Labels. I Wish We Got To Choose Our Own. We Pause For A Moment. I Wonder If That’s All—if He Just Needed To Say The Truth And Have It Heard. But Then Kyle Looks At Me With Unsure Eyes And Says, “you See, I Don’t Know Who I’m Supposed To Be.” “nobody Does,” I Assure Him.

Gravity, N. I Imagine You Saved My Life. And Then I Wonder If I'm Just Imagining It.

It's One Thing To Fall In Love. It's Another To Feel Someone Else Fall In Love With You, And To Feel A Responsibility Toward That Love.

Feeling Someone Else's Anger Is Bad; Being Left Alone Is Worse.