about? Who said you were going
to die? Never mind. Don’t
tell me. Your loving mother.
“Forget about my mother.
Do I look like I’m going
to die? I feel good, but I look rough.
Don’t I? Tell me the truth, okay?”
That’s what I say. But he
knows what I need to hear.
Kristina, I don’t know what
your mom had to say to you,
but you are beautiful. Incredible. If
you died, it would break me in two.
You taught me what love is.
How could I live without you?
He kisses me, and it’s better
than our very first kiss because
I know it means more than his just
wanting to get into my pants. It’s
affirmation. After all these
months, all the good and bad,
he really does love me.
As much—or more—as
I love him. That makes everything
worth it—the lying. The stealing.
The leaving others in my
dust. The inseparable guilt.
Guilty
Ka-ching! Guilty? You betcha. Fact
is, I’m going to get guiltier, soon