But what if I don’t? What if the only reason that sign is glowing is because Adam’s the one powering it? The butterflies feel different from the ones I felt from Caitlin—I don’t have the impulse to immediately squash them—but I’m still filled with uncertainty. Dr. Bright would say this is why meditation is important—that I need to clear my head in order to understand what I’m feeling. But closing my eyes and imagining a river with leaves floating down it or whatever isn’t helpful for me. Instead I lie on my bed and stare at glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling.

I feel the last of my family members drift off to sleep—my dad, I think, it’s always my dad—and my whole body exhales. I do a mental and physical check of myself. I’m tired (what else is new), a little sore from my run earlier (but not in a bad way), and just a bit hungry (again, what else is new). Basically, your standard.

The emotional check is a little more complicated. I’m stressed about a history quiz I have later this week but, in general, looking forward to school tomorrow. That’s new. New-ish. And I know exactly why school doesn’t fill me with dread anymore like it did at the beginning of the semester. It’s because of Adam.

Which leads me to the heart of the matter: what are my feelings about him?

I want to be around Adam all the time. I think about him constantly, I miss him when he’s not there, and when he is there I want … more. I let myself imagine for a second what that would be like and my breath catches in my throat, the pit of my stomach aching. Out of all the feelings I’ve felt—and I can safely say that it’s been a lot, the whole gamut—I’ve never felt anything like this.

And he’s not here. He’s miles away, probably in his own bed staring up at his own ceiling, and every cell in my body wants to be next to him. That’s a feeling I’m feeling, right now, alone in my room. I don’t have the excuse of his emotions influencing mine—there’s no one else to blame. There’s no one else to thank. This is mine.

This is mine.

A strange mix of relief and anticipation swirls in my body. Finally, I have something that’s my own and it’s good and no one can take that away from me. It doesn’t matter how much other people invade me every day—fill me with things I’d rather not feel, confuse my head and my heart—because this is mine.