Page 152 of Close Knit

Even with the persistent ache in my heart, I know that giving the situation space was the right choice.

The day after Cameron ended things with us, I caught the first flight from Heathrow to San Francisco. I couldn’t stick around. I didn’t want to make it hard on the guys, didn’t want to have to avoid Cameron in the hallway or feel the constant weight of what could’ve been hanging over us.

I wouldn’t have been able to give him the space he needed or deal with my heartache if I were across the hall from him.

However much I wanted to stick by his side—to help him figure things out, to convince him that he never needed to change—it wouldn’t be right. That’s not my place.

It’s not my job to fix the boy with the sad eyes. It’s not my job to fix anyone.

I won’t trade my peace for his turmoil.

Time is supposed to heal, but some days it feels like the clock is ticking agonizingly slow. How could he feel he was beneath me? I thought we loved helping each other. Growing together. What did he think he was going to regret saying before he walked out on us?

The thought twists my stomach in knots. I know he has deep scars, but I was there for him. I loved him without wanting to fix him. I just wanted to stand by him.

If he saw himself as someone undeserving of the love we shared, there’s only so much I could do to try and convince him otherwise.

After everything that’s happened—pulling myself together, moving past the storm of bullies, and finding my voice again—I won’t dim my light to make him or any man feel better about themselves. It’s a hard truth, but the love I want would never make me think I had to sacrifice my own glow.

I understand his pain, and I genuinely hope he finds a way to heal. I wish only the best for him. He was my first love—Iwould never wish for anything else. But I know my worth and my boundaries, and I can’t be the one to hold him together while he works through what happened to him. I have to protect myself. Even if it means stepping back and letting go.

But I miss him.

I miss the promise of the life I thought we’d bumble through together.

But he was more into self-preservation than us-preservation.

Maybe, somewhere down the road, that’s something we can both be thankful for.

The tears slip out unbidden. My first real heartbreak—the worst item on the Yes Year list. They say there’s a first time for everything—whoevertheyare could’ve addedand it’s going to suck a lot. My hands itch to reach for my phone, to tell him that, to tell him anything. To hear the deep sound of his voice one more time. But I resist.

If Cameron needs space, then I won’t force my way back into his life.

I sit on my favorite green bench—the same bench I saw that elderly man knitting on when I was at one of the lowest points of my life. This bench has seen it all—my tears, my dreams, a few panic attacks here and there.

With a deep breath, I pull out my needles and yarn.

You’re going to be just fine. You’re going to be big, larger than life.

Be big, Daphne fucking Quinn.

April19

Lyndhurst FC Back on Track with Third Win in a Row—Can They Keep It Up the Rest of the Season?

Bea Matos

Are you seeing this???

Daphne

No, what's going on!!!

Bea Matos

Turn on the game!

Without thinking, I toss the pattern for the Bind Together Bikini to the side and fumble toward the living room. The game is already playing on my TV. My mouth drops open in disbelief as I witness the entire Lyndhurst team march onto the field, their torsos draped in knitwear. My fingers scramble for the remote, cranking up the volume.

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