Page 96 of The Things That Hold Us

He licks his lips, and my eyes follow the movement.

Everything inside of me feels like it's on fire from the tension that’s built up.

“Logan.. I..'' I start to say something, start to object to why I can't do this, but then I think about Sam's letter. I can't do this every time I get close to Logan.

I can't keep coming close to kissing him, only to turn him down and start crying.

I feel my eyes start to sting, and quickly blink them away.

“Hey, look at me.” he says when he notices the tears building. “What's wrong? Talk to me.”

How do I explain that I’m not supposed to be feeling things, but I am?

“I’m scared.” I finally whisper, my voice cracking on a sob.

I blink quickly, and take a breath, trying to compose myself.

His hands come up and cup my face, wiping a tear away.

“What are you scared of, Charlie? Talk to me and maybe I can help you.”

I just shake my head, because I don't know what else to do. I don't know how to tell the guy I like that I shouldn't be able to like him.

The person I love died.

The person who was mysoulmate, is gone.

How am I able to have feelings for someone who isn't him?

It suddenly all feels like too much, and it feels like walls are closing in on me. My throat tightens, and breathing becomes harder. I jump up, stepping off of his truck and fanning my face.

Great. Perfect time for an anxiety attack Charlie.

“I can't. I’m sorry. I just can't do this.”

He jumps off the truck after me.

“Charlie what's happening, talk to me.”

But everything is too overwhelming. Sam being gone. Logan being here.

He makes me feel like I’mhome,and that scares me so badly.

He makes the loss of Sam feel like it’s not as hard as it once was, because he’s filled something within me.

It's too much and I don't know how to navigate this.

Logan stands there, watching me, his face full of confusion and pain. And I wish I could explain this somehow. I wish I could explain to him that Ishouldn'tbe feeling things for him. Because I do.

I feel so much that it’s like my chest may explode when I look at him.

I want nothing more than to lay in his arms, and him hold me and put all my pieces back in place; that thought is what scares me.

“Charlie..” he says again when I don't say anything.

“This is too much.” I cry, and point to the movie.

“What is too much?”

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