The Pull

een him for

els like

s conversations. I scroll through my phone like he might've sent something, anything. But

I hate myself

our, I m

do when I can't cont

ive into work. I alphabetize the books in my apartment. I clean o

night, I find a note

e left off.

explanatio

th catches. And I hate how

ot, chipped nails, and dark lipstick. Not for him. For me. To remi

go a

ng like he never left. The s

you disappe

answers. "No

t ea

's what I'm

rying not to look eager.

"What was t

"More lik

om

everyt

annoyed. "You know, most peo

lie when th

him. "And

But not

ns it. And I can't tell if th

gravity to it. Like we're circling something dangerous, and

?" I ask. My voice sounds

lki

an, what

nswer is obvious. "It's w

not an

only one

y cheek. "You always keep

eople where they

where

me. And then, slowly, like a decision being mad

eady. In

you should

mantic. It'

ill don'

you about, the moment before it all goes wrong when it feels m

he start that this wa

back of my hand, gentle and rough al

st want to feel

better o

feels