Jen's Journal

It starts with a spark. He gets along with your friends and remembers small things about you, like that you’ve seen Halsey in concert four times. A fire begins that engulfs and suffocates you. He cooks dinner with you while softly playing Frank Sinatra. He supports your writing and thinks you should be publishing already. He thinks you’re passionate and compassionate and wants you there when he’s sick. At this point, your entire body is burning and you don’t know how to tame it. He keeps telling you you’ll never be his girlfriend and you’re okay with that. No, you’re not, but you tell him you are because you love spending time with him and your time is short. So you back off as best you can. But the flames in you are too much for your delicate body to handle. It spreads to your loins. He makes you squirm squeal and scream. He holds you close and whispers sweet nothings and you realize you’ll never get out alive. Just when you think you see a way out past the grey smog all around, he tells you he wants to travel with you. He makes sandwiches for you because he knows how hungry you are after a long shift. He tells you about his childhood and you watch his eyes light up as he talks about people he would give his life for. And even though you’re not his girlfriend, you know you would give your life for him in a second.