“So, how do you feel about me?” I asked, straddling him.
He looked … stunned? Scared? “I care about you. And how you feel about me is important to me.” Delivered as if he were pronouncing judgement on a prisoner. Distant and objective. And then he adds “I guess I’m still figuring things out” — as if to leave room within the statement, maintain eligibility for parole. “How do you feel about me?”
“Same holds for me, I guess.” I rolled over. He touched my shoulder, as if he knew I might need comforting after that. Or maybe he wanted to be comforted.
– Michelle Chihara

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