DAPHNE
Two days ago I would have sworn I liked being alone, proud of it, even. Now, with Ezekiel staying under my roof, that certainty feels shaky. There's this hollowness I hadn't known I had until he came and filled it, like the missing piece of a puzzle I didn't know I was missing.
Some of the things he says and the way he moves feel oddly familiar, as if I've heard them in another life. And the ridiculous embarrassing dreams won't leave me alone. In them I'm straddling him in a narrow room; we kiss, and then the scene jumps and suddenly we're bare, and I tell him I like him. I keep telling myself it's because I think about him too much, that my eyes follow him when he isn't looking. Honestly, who could blame me?
He arrived in my life like a quiet correction to everything I'd been d
