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Her hair is sitting in a loose bun, her face is free of makeup.

“You think we don’t know each other?” she whispers.

I shake my head.

“I know we don’t. You know I’m naturally blonde, and you know I’m divorced, but you don’t know why I’ve been dying my hair since I was fifteen or why my ex-husband is the person I can stand the least on this earth.”

Her head slowly but surely moves in a nod, before she takes a couple of cautious steps towards me.

“I know you’re a student that hates homework, and loves cheesy reality television,” I continue. “But I’ve asked you a lot more questions than I’ve gotten answers for. There’s more to both of us than we’ve gotten to show over the last couple of months.”

“Do you do this with all of your girlfriends?” I see it for the attempt to be teasing that it is, but it doesn’t work on me. There’s vulnerability in those words.

“No,” I answer honestly. “I’ve never felt serious enough about anyone to need this kind of conversation to happen.”

She inhales a ragged breath that has me certain she’s holding back tears.

“And you–” she clears her throat. “You feel serious about me? Even after everything?”

“Even after everything,” I confirm softly.

It’s what she needed to hear before taking a seat next to me, crossing her legs and holding onto her knees like a kid who’snervous to be at their first sleepover. In a way, that’s exactly what she is. What both of us are. Just two kids figuring out how to love this intensely for the first time in their lives, and hoping the other might have some idea of what we’re supposed to do.

But it’s kind of beautiful that neither of us do.

Our conversation is a long one, but I don’t realize just how long until I glance at my phone and see the early morning hour. It doesn’t matter, it’s not going to make me stop anytime soon.

I told her about Caleb and every last detail of our frustrating past.

“My parents actually separated for a couple of years when I was in elementary school. I think it was because of me, but they’d never admit it in a million years. I was a difficult kid, acting out for the fun of it. I got really good grades, and loved school, but I’d go and get suspended over the dumbest stuff.”

“Like what?” Kara asks with an interested grin.

“Like pulling things out of the community garden when I thought no one was looking.” I put my hands up in surrender before she can say anything. “I wassofascinated by carrots. It didn’t matter how many of them I pulled out of the ground, it was so exciting every time!”

Her head falls back with her laughter, and I join in.

“I can’t blame you there. I’d probably want to do the same.”

“I haven’t learned my lesson, either. If there was a garden in front of me right now, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“We can be carrot vandals together,” she says.

“Perfect,” I agree.

My mouth is already dry, and my throat is already scratchy from all the talking I’ve been doing. I don’t let it phase me, just feeling good about getting everything out there.

I can’t remember the last time my life felt thishopeful.It’s not that I didn’t have any before Kara. I’ve always been hopeful that Dahlia will continue to get more and more amazing every year.That she’ll do great things. That coparenting will get easier, and I’ll stop worrying every second she’s not with me. Most of it has revolved around her.

She’s always been such a light for me, always made me feel so much excitement for whatever the next day brings.

But she’s depended on me all these years, and I’ve depended on… no one. Caleb tried for a couple months. My best friends have the capacity for it a few times a year, and I’m not ungrateful for that. They’ve helped me through a lot.

But I want this everyday. I want to end my long days of being in charge, and being needed, with someone I can need without feeling guilty. Without feeling like a burden. I want someone I can laugh and cry with every single day and know that they’re happy to do it, because they’re my person. I’m their person.

“Tell me about your childhood,” I say cautiously.

“Oh boy,” she says on a sigh. But the wall that’s usually placed between us at any mention isn’t there now. “What do you want to know?”