I move to his roommate’s bed, which, for some reason, smells like sweet perfume—I’m guessing his girlfriend stays over a lot. I tell him goodnight before passing out after the big day, surrounded by far more people than I’m used to.

The rest of the weekend goes by entirely too fast, with more people being introduced to me and more candidates for Camden. I don’t ask him if he wants to date any of them.

If he’s had a connection with them because it’s none of my business.

When I say goodbye and drive away from his dorm with a promise to visit again soon, I don’t feel so good.

I don’t fit into his life anymore. There’s no part of me that wants to sit in a fancy coffee shop and talk about philosophy.

But I’m still smiling because he fits so well into this life. He’s thriving there in ways he never would have been able to back home.

And really, that’s all that matters.

41. Camden

FORTY-ONE

CAMDEN

College is everything I’ve ever dreamed of, but it’s missing one thing. Kingston. I can’t stop thinking about his visit.

He was polite and tried to keep up the conversation with my new friends, but I could tell he was uncomfortable. And when we were alone in my dorm room that first time, and he kissed me, I let myself believe it was because he wanted me.

In that way.

The way I’ve always wanted him to want me. But then, when I asked him and he said he missed me, I knew it was just that. He only wanted to feel that connection with me and didn’t actually want to be with me. Not like that.

I should try to date. I know I probably should, but my heart is still with Kingston. I think it always will be. No one else has even come close to grabbing my attention, even though my friend Greg put it out there that he’d be up for it.

I just don’t want that. I want him.

I miss him like crazy every single day. But I love it here too.

I talked to LeAnn the other day. She’s having a great time at college. She went to an entirely different state, all the way to the West Coast. Surprising everyone because no one does that from our town.

She’s doing well, but I could hear a hint of sadness in her voice too. Yearning for someone back home is a recipe for disaster.

I’m trying to pay attention in my sociology class when my phone lights up with a message. I try to be discreet as I check it, smiling when I see it’s a picture from Kingston. Pretty rose bushes blooming in front of my mom’s house.