The Pier was packed but it was easy for me to find Cal below it. I had spent years with nameless nobodies in the same spot, but everything was the opposite of fleeting when it came to my Cal. He leaned against a support beam as the high tide nearly engulfed the entirety of the beach save for the stretch of sand he stood on. The moon illuminated his form as speckled reflections of the twinkling lights that had filtered through the slats of wood above him danced on the lake spread at his feet.

Though I hadn’t wanted to, I jogged to Cal, not able to get to him quickly enough. As soon as I reached him, I crashed our lips together, pressing my palms into the nape of his neck. The farther I felt from him, the closer I wanted to be. I hated that he hadn’t come to dinner and hated even more how I knew it was an unrealistic fantasy to think he’d ever integrate with my family in any capacity. I didn’t need them like I needed him, but they were planets apart and I was left floating between them. When all was said and done, it would always be Cal who grounded me, my gravity.

“It’s cold out here,” I confessed into his mouth, listening to the icicle-laced waves lap against the shore. “We could be at home in the warmth.”

“But then we wouldn’t be here,” he said, cradling my head. “You were on your knees when this started.”

“Do you want me to get on my knees now?” I asked, unsure of where he was going with the trip down memory lane.

“I told you I would care about you even if you couldn’t care for yourself,” Cal continued, ignoring my offer.

“You did.” I remembered the moment vividly, how his presence had enchanted me, how I had found myself begging for him before I knew I was in need.

As the lake glistened with silver streaks from the waning crescent, Cal looked more gorgeous than any sunrise I had ever seen. From the warm tone of his hair to the star-like dusting of freckles forming constellations over his skin, he was celestial. I had spent the last several years staring at the sun, and I knew I would never be able to see anybody else again. Still, I couldn’t look away.

“People say you can never love anyone until you love yourself,” he began, resting his forehead against mine. “Can you love me?”

“I love you enough to try,” I breathed, barely able to believe the words had escaped my lips. To love myself was a stretch but to love him was a given.