I told myself I was going to the library to think.

What I was actually doing was arguing with myself in the stacks at midnight, running the same loop over and over — walking away was right, it was the only option, I couldn't keep letting him be the thing I reached for every time something got hard, I couldn't afford it, I didn't trust it, I didn't trust myself when it came to him and that was the most dangerous part.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking.

I pressed them flat on the table. Lifted ...