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Then I suddenly turned into this weird, awkward girl who couldn’t form her words properly to talk without it coming out all cliché and fundamentally insulting.
It happened every single time.
Well actually, no, not every time.
Not with Ham.
He never let me get that far. He always took control, made me feel comfortable, turning the butterflies in my stomach into beautiful and electric fireworks.
With him, it was easy.
It was never awkward.
My body knew him. Knew his voice. Knew his touch. And none of that ever made me nervous. It made me excited, and happy.
God, why did everything always come back to him?
I couldn’t even have a guy hit on me without comparing him to Ham.
Everything came back to him—the happy moments, the sad moments, the times where I was confused and not sure whether I was up or down.
He was the most joy I’d ever experienced.
But he was also the most pain.
Something needed to change. Anything.
