Wow, does it sound like I’m giving my Oscar speech or something? Or my own eulogy? Here’s the tldr: you guys are the best. And I want to keep leaning on this community for everything in my life, but I’ve realized there are just some things that are best kept offline, and that includes my relationship with Daisy. Even though I’ve been using a fake name with her and, hello, none of you know who I am anyway, I’ve thought a lot about privacy and boundaries these past few months and … well, it’s important to be responsible with other people’s stories.

I’m here to tell my own stories, in my own way, on my own terms.

And I’ve got a lot to say.

MAY 19TH, 2017

It felt like time had been rewound, to two months ago, sitting in this same booth, across from Damien, watching him dump sugar packet after sugar packet into terrible, burnt diner coffee.

“What are you doing back here?” I asked, folding my arms in front of me in my best attempt to seem intimidating. I don’t think it had the desired effect because he just smirked, his cheeks rising unevenly. At least they looked a little fuller than the last time I’d seen him, like he was actually eating for once.

“Believe it or not, I don’t actually let a bunch of people who hate me dictate where I do or do not go,” he said.

“Really? Because that’s pretty much the opposite of what you said last time we were here,” I said. “You seemed very adamant about doing what other people were telling you to do, even if it screwed over other people.”

“Are you … mad at me?” he asked, having the gall to sound genuinely surprised.

“You’ve been gone for two months, Damien,” I snapped. “A lot has happened.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” He snorted. “I got all the way to Wyoming.”

“So why come back?” I asked again.

“I have some lingering business to attend to,” he said.

“With Mark?” I asked, aiming to hit him where it hurt.

“No,” Damien said adamantly. “None of that gang knows that I’m here and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because I fucked up bad with them,” Damien said simply. “I don’t particularly want to repeat that pattern.”

“Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I fucked up bad with them too,” I said, ripping open a sugar packet. I didn’t like sugar in my coffee but I wasn’t sure how else to drink diner coffee that had been sitting around since the lunch rush when it was now an hour to closing.

“What, you try to kidnap one of them?” he asked dryly. “You actually kidnap another one?”