The Poem Wasn't for Me
4 min read · Anonymous · Premium
Sign in to save for later
He'd asked me to move in, and I'd said yes the way you say yes when you think you've finally gotten the timing of your life right.
So there I was, on the very first morning, standing in the middle of his living room — *our* living room, I kept correcting myself — surrounded by a fortress of cardboard boxes with my whole life inside them. He'd kissed me goodbye and left for work, telling me to make myself at home, to settle in, that he couldn't wait to come back to me unpacking in his kitchen. It was the kind of morning you want to photograph and keep.
This story continues…
$5.99 50% OFF → $2.99/mo · cancel anytime
Sign in to save for later