Page 99 of A Solid Guide to Surviving a Situationship

“I’m yours,” I said, gently pulling him in again.

I loved him more than anything the world could ever offer.

That if it ever ended, it would shatter me…

I just didn’t know it yet.

But we stayed like that for a while, somewhere between teasing and something softer.

Like the kind of happiness that didn’t ask questions.

The kind that just… existed…

But it wasn’t always like that.

Or perhaps, maybe it was, and I just didn’t notice when it started changing.

There was a night—nothing special, just one of those in-between days that didn’t feel important until later.

He had his arms around me, tracing slow, absent circles against my skin.

“You’re cute,” he said, out of nowhere.

I looked at him. “That’s it?”

He smirked. “What, you want a speech?”

“Yes,” I said, half-serious. “I deserve a speech.”

He laughed, leaning in to kiss me—easy enough to quiet me.

“You’re so needy,” he murmured.

I smiled. “Only for you… forever.”

It came out softer than I meant it to, like something I shouldn’t have said out loud. Because something in his expression shifted right after.

Not completely. Not enough to name. Just enough to feel.

He pulled away a little, taking off his hand around my shoulder, reaching for his phone like the moment had already passed.

I had imagined the weight of it.

But I told myself it was nothing.

It was always nothing.

And then there were nights that felt like a different version of him entirely.

The kind where I had to pause before saying anything, like I needed to figure out who I was talking to first.

I remember staring at my phone, thumb hovering, rereading our messages like there was a pattern I just hadn’t cracked yet.

Sometimes he was all in.

Calling me out of nowhere.

Texting me he missed me.