I look into the future and I see two of me. One would maybe be over my boyfriend's house, cozily hanging out. The other me goes home to sink into the quiet of my space, alone.
We have been writing and opening up and last night had our 3rd date.
He held my hands gently over the car's console while I told him some of my history. His eyes were kind. "You were scared of me," he says, suddenly understanding my skittishness. I nodded. "You ran away for 3 weeks and I didn't see you."
We were quiet a moment while he stroked the top of my hand with a single fingertip. "and you are going to run away again after tonight."
I hung my head. "You can tell?"
"I can tell."