Confession

I’ve been keeping secrets from my boss. I have to. Because how the hell do you tell a straight man that you’ve been in love with him for years? If he found out, everything would collapse, and I’ve worked so hard to hold my life together, all these pieces that I don’t deserve: a home, a position, trust. But it’s only getting harder because he keeps watching me, keeps touching me—and I can’t handle it. I try to tell myself that it’s in my head, but it’s not. Something’s changed between us, and I don’t understand. I don’t know what to do, and I’m terrified that I’m going to do something really, really stupid. I just have to lock down. I’m good at that. I’ve been doing it for years. I don’t need anything. I swear I don’t. But then he touches me again, unnecessarily, like he’s trying to figure something out, and everything I tell myself I don’t need, everything I can’t have anyway, feels very much like everything I can’t live without.