“I love you.” I’d stopped mid-motion as I rummaged through my duffle bag, my search for a clean pair of socks abandoned.  But I didn’t turn around. “It’s okay,” Collin had said.  “You don’t have to say it back. I get it if that’s not where you’re at.” I hadn’t been able to respond or…

As I lay in bed that night, having gone to class, and eaten dinner, then listened to the quiet mumblings of conversation going on around me after lights-out, I found myself reading and rereading the words I’d written for Cecelia this morning in my memory. I’ve made many mistakes in my life—few people my age…