Page 80 of Glass Jawed
I miss her. I miss her in ways I don’t have metaphors for. I miss her when I accidentally knock her plushy slippers when putting on my shoes. When I’m getting dressed after showering and never—ever—fail to put the Cooper bracelet back on. When Ipick up my phone and see her name is still on top of my favorite contacts.
Fuck. When Ibreathe, I miss her. Everything about her.
How her hand curls under her chin when she sleeps on her stomach. I love it when she does that. I love her voice in the mornings—all low and raspy—calling me an idiot for not charging my phone. I love how she was so unapologetically herself that she dragged the real me out. I love—
I still at my train of thought.
Is that what this is?
Not guilt. Not longing. Not mere nostalgia.
But...love?
Fuck.
It’s love, isn’t it?
The kind that makes you feel like your body isn’t big enough to contain what’s inside it.
The kind that makes you want to fix yourself—not just for her, but because she made you want to be someoneworth loving.
Christ.I’m so fucking stupid.
I’m in love with Aarohi Talwar.
And now she’s gone.
And I have no one to tell but myself. I no longer have therightto say it to her.
I know it’s not some half-assed,I-like-who-I-am-around-herkind of affection. It’s theI-love-how-she-smells-on-lazy-morningskind of love.
God, I’m so fucking in love with her.
But it’s not just Aarohi I fell for, is it?
It’sRohi.
The quiet-eyed, sharp-tongued woman who kept itrealeven when I was handing her a pretty lie. The woman who laughed at my bad jokes, who chewed me out for leaving dishes in the sink,who looked me in the eye andgavea shit even when I thought didn’t.
And now? Now, I’ve probably drained every last drop of feelings she had for me. Like mine drained for Tim.
Fuck! This isn’t happening.
Because it doesn’t matter how real Ieventuallybecame with her—when the foundation was a lie, every truth after it starts to look fake, too.
I let that happen.
Imadethat happen.
Trust that barely had a chance to build—I took it and fucking stomped on it.
So yeah. I may have come to terms with my feelings. But she probably can’t even stand to hear my name.
Still, I want to become who Ireallyam. Who I was with her for the few blessed months.
Not the asshole who schemed a fake relationship for revenge.
Not the boy who lost his shit the night Tim left.
