Depressed. Again. Another day where I woke up fine, was confident, felt good. Went to school. Got lonely. Didn’t realize I was boarding an emotional roller coaster.

            It explains why, just an hour ago, I was happy, confident, motivated, on top of the world. Now, I am a crying wreck, curled up into a ball on the floor. If I had shep fur, I know what color it would be: black.

            Black, like the cold, empty, icy vastness of space. Black, like the darkest corners of my mind. Black, like the mascara-stained tear tracks on my face.

            I squeeze my eyes shut against the pain, but it doesn’t go away. Words echo in my head. Images flash through my mind. Jealousy rips its claws into the hole where my heart used to be. My heart is scattered in pieces on the floor, fragments embedded in the walls, the furniture. Sharp, like glass. It may cut you.

            The door opens, and he steps in.

            “Hey,” he whispers, shutting the door against the world. The pieces of my heart shudder silver around him as he crouches down, slow. His feet are bare. His fingers are cool against my hot tears. A slow smile. Eyes like addiction.

            He inches closer and huddles me into his arms. I am a bird with a broken wing, a skittish creature only he can tame. He is gentle. Slow. Understanding.

            We curl up together. He takes me gently into his arms and tucks my head against his chest. Warmth. Protection. Safety. Trust. He takes my aqua blanket and smooths it over us. We are in a safe cocoon.

            I hold on to him. My anchor. My protector. Here, solid, constant. Something to lean on. Someone to trust. Someone who never leaves me or lets me down.

            “I’m here,” he says, holding me tight. I close my eyes and cry into his shirt. Flannel. Button-down. It smells like him. It smells like home.

            The pieces of my heart are slowly coming together again, shuddering silver.

            He rocks me gently, replacing the darkness in my mind with good things. Sheps, sugar, guinea pigs, dogs. Lamborghinis and Ducatis. Craft rooms and pools and a loft bed much bigger than mine, beckoning me home. I am lonely, but we are lonely together.

            I’m here. You’re not alone. I’ve got you. You’re safe.

            A slow kiss against the top of my head.

            Hair like silk. Eyes like addiction.

            He knows I don’t want to talk. I want to be held and rocked and loved. Snuggled up tight in his arms, everything is okay. The hurt is still there, but we are sharing it. He knows. He knows how I feel.

            I am sleepy now, my eyes red and sore, nose stuffy. He gets me tissues and smooths down my hair. Wipes the tears from my eyes.

            “Here,” he says, handing me my pajamas. “I’ll be outside.”

            I change and climb into my loft bed. He comes in and stands on my chair. Straightens my blankets. Entangles our fingers.

            “I love you,” he whispers, placing a slow kiss against my lips.

            I want to tell him to stay. Stay with me. Hold me when it gets hard. Be my friend, my protector, my lover. Always here. Always, always here.

            But he has to go.

            My heart wants to break again, but it has come back together. No more pieces scissoring my lungs so I can’t breathe. No more slicing through my spine so I can’t move. His silver is too strong.

            I will fly apart again. He will hold me again.

            It’s getting worse, but it’s getting better.

            I don’t remember going to sleep. I remember holding his hand, his fingers rubbing my palm. I remember staring at his face, trying to memorize every point. I remember the kiss.

            I love you.

            And then –

            Sunshine. Morning. Heavy blankets and fluffy pillows. A heart that still hurts. I am still wounded. But it hurts a little less. It’s healed a little.

            He leaves words and love in my palm, in my hair, tucked between the blankets. Settled, like snow, over every inch of my room. Gleaming like silver. 

            I tuck the love into my body, snuggle it against my ribs and neck, tuck it between my fingers and toes. Create a protective cushion around my heart.

            Whispering things to the sky, the air, the earth, everything around me.

            Thank you.

            And from somewhere up above, gleaming like starlight, comes the reply, full of hugs and kisses, shep love, guinea pig snuggles. Cologne and perfume. Leather jackets, ripped jeans, red sneakers. Mornings and evenings spent in lazy bliss. Talking late into the night. Waking up to sunshine and kisses. Together. Always, always together.

            But in the meantime, my heart is filled with silver. A talisman. A reminder of the great things to come.

            I love you, Kai Murphy.

            I love you.

            I love you.

            I love you.