I Am Not Jessica Chen

Like a crush who comes up to you in the moonlight and smiles at you each time you insist on moving on—just enough to keep you lingering, to make you wonder how good things could be. If only, if only.

I thought we’d established that a long time ago, I retort silently. That’s the problem. I’m not sad because I don’t love life enough, but because I love life too much. I always want more of it.

That I don’t know how to do anything except crave what I don’t have. I don’t know how to be content, to sit with myself and my life and let it wash over me like daylight. But before I can say anything at all, a dark blur appears in my peripheral vision, approaching fast, heading straight toward us—