I had the biggest crush on Anwar growing up, but he moved up north before high school. I nearly fainted the first time he DM’d me this year, commenting on one of my stupid stories about watching horror movies. Since then we’ve become kind of like social media pen pals, flirt messaging about our favorite horror classics. At least, I hope we’ve been flirt messaging. The line had been pretty blurry up until a few days ago when Anwar suggested we swing our road trip through his town for an in-person visit.

At first Chase balked at the idea of deviating from his preciously calculated plan. However, when I reminded him that he’s the one in a stable, intimacy-filled relationship and I haven’t even kissed anyone in… well, far too long, he finally agreed to find room for the added stop.

As I read the latest messages from Anwar, my heart begins to pound.

I see your road trip has started. Which means we get to hang soon.

Hope you packed a sweater, it gets colder here at night than you’re used to.

And we have lots of seaside star-gazing to attend to.

I immediately picture Anwar lying on a blanket in the sand beside me, the sound of waves crashing in the background. Just the two of us and the salt spray and the stars. His steady hands pointing out the constellations, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to see the curves of his tan chest. Me staring at his full, round lips when he talks, the lips that would eventually connect with mine.

I snap myself out of this daydream, however, because time is short and I need to write a response.

I never get to see enough stars back home. Or the ocean for that matter.

Click here

Why would I pack a sweater when I could just use you for body heat?

Click here

It’s not exactly the most romantic thing I can say, but it’s the truth.

I hit send and the familiar nerves begin to collect in my chest. Gripping my phone, I know I should use my precious remaining minutes to check my other notifications, but my eyes remain fixed on the screen, willing Anwar to answer.

Sometimes I wish I could care a little less, that I could turn down the dial on how intensely I feel most things. Everything always seems so heightened in my world, like my emotional valleys can sometimes be bottomless.

Then again, once I see the three flashing dots by Anwar’s photo, I remember that my peaks can also be sky high. Exhaling, I welcome the flush of warmth that replaces my nerves.

Oh, I remember. But trust me, you’re going to love it here. This is my solemn swear.

I smile at the screen, my mind racing to compose a good response.