He asks me, “Are you okay?”

I say, “yes”.

We both know I’m lying. 

He’s quiet, but then he holds me a little tighter, a little closer to his chest. 

‘I’m sad that you’re leaving,’ I want to say. But I have no right to tell him that. I haven’t even the tiniest, most infinitesimal part in his life. 

‘I wish we had more time,’ the words are on the tip of my tongue. And there they stay. 

‘I know we were temporary but that doesn’t make this any easier.“ I am ready to burst with all of the words inside me. 

In our silence, I feel his arms relax around me, I feel him start to drift. 

‘Please, let’s still talk,’ I whisper into his chest, ’ please don’t let it be as if we never knew each other.

He’s asleep.

“I know we said no feelings,” I say, out loud this time. And then, after a pause, “but that has never been how feelings work.