Remy

I wanted a girl as perfect as Brooke, and instead, she gave me something I never knew I wanted: something perfect that looks like me.

There are things you’re certain about. That you’d bet your life on. Things that you just know. You know the heat of a fire will burn you. Water will quench your thirst. She is one of those things; the most unerring certainty of my life.

I know men laugh about this. About being pussy-whipped. About panting like a dog after a girl. About wanting a woman more than you want to want her. I don't fucking care. They can keep their sarcasm. I'll take the girl.

She gets that words are sometimes bullshit and people don’t mean what they say and through it all it’s only actions that matter.

And then I imagine the look on her face when I tell her I’m bipolar.

She is my female and I need her. I knew it from the instant I saw her, and she knew it too, and that's why she ran. She wanted me to chase and I did. I will chase her every time she wants to see if I want her and need her enough.

And my brain goes quiet and my heart is calm and my life is at a standstill, and the pendulum that I am, all the swinging to and fro, finally stops and I feel like I finally found my center.

When you belong to someone . . . you don’t kiss anyone else. You don’t kiss his enemy. You don’t lie to him. Betray him.