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I had tried so hard to be so But, sitting here at this e, I kneas never going to write a screenplay, or a book, or direct aI did mattered Never did Never would And I’d been co and drea

I finally answered his question "It doesn’tdoes"

He was quiet for a few seconds but I could tell he was angry But so was I Even in es that I wouldn’t have noticed in the beginning were completely visible to me Whatdid I now have into him? Did he know I saw him? Worse, could he really see into me? "You and I both know the truth What they did to you er in his voice, only certainty "Everythingis very personal You know that just as I do Don’t act so defeated, we both know it isn’t like you"

I laughed, but it died in ed choke "Hoould you know?" He had never answered me fully before and his words often smacked of half truths, but in some odd way, I sensed it was because he didn’t kno to answer In other words, he wanted to answer s, not evenfor his rage, wanting it I needed to pick a fight with someone I kneouldn’t really hurt iving up wasn’t like me, no matter how much I wanted it to be He reolden hair was tinged reddish brown, there was blood caked in his hairline I shuddered II’d never hear from anyone but a man like Caleb

There was a shift in his body, muscles in play but he remained utterly still His expression was cold, stark but it wasn’t directed at ht I don’t know your real name But I don’t knowwho I a what I want"

His words were the last I was expecting I sat du important but I wasn’t sure what to do with it or if it’d easefew people knew and by his expression, it reatly It made my heart speed up to know he’d just opened up to me in some way I realized I wanted to kno he’d beco next to me Caleb It wasn’t his real name He didn’t know his real name

What happened to you Caleb? Who did this to you? And why are you now doing this to me? I watched his face, the lines hard but not cultivated to project his usual demeanor I felt it then

There is aofeles and why I’d been attracted to that i to describe the hulory At first, it’d been an extension of ely mirrored in this world of ‘fiction’

Each story wanted, no--needed--to reveal a hus they did and to be the person they held in their heads Those stories were so true and sometimes horrific but people were people and the parts didn’t just tell the whole story I’d seen parts of this man, Caleb What was the whole man, unshielded, and vulnerable? Who was this man that could do this to me, to anyone, and live with hiht in him that was somehow redeemable? Why did I try? But then, more importantly, why did he?

He waited I waited I wanted to press hi for more, but I kneould only push hiive as well as he got and if I wanted to know more, then it would be up to me to make him beholden to me Perhaps the more we knew about one another, the closer ould beco me

Surrender, he had once said He had wanted me to surrender Not just my body My mind I would try I would try for hi next to er underneath The one I had met on the sidewalk that fated day – the one with no na to try and understand him, piecemeal, and what came of it, I’d let fate decide I made the first move because he wouldn’t Maybe he couldn’t

"Part of lad – to be away from my old life" I could tell he was surprised by the detour of our conversation and it felt nice to surprise hie "Not that this is much better, but at least you wanted me backI don’t think my mother would" I licked my dry lips and forced myself to continue "She thinks I did all this to myself That I ran awaythat I’ht that" The luly, s out loud I had said things aboutHe wouldn’t flinch Soht, and not feel the burden and uncomfortable unease associated with it, like Nicole had "She hates herself, and I’m a part of her, manifested"