Or at least that’s how it feels to me. I’m eighteen. I’m at university. I’m living with my amazing boyfriend. I have best friends I can rely on, and the support of family who care about me. I’ve been slowly developing my gift in a way which feels genuinely rewarding. Life should be perfect, but it’s not. It’s not because our flat is filled with curtains instead of doors, and my stupid fear is making my life almost impossible.

Zel says we’ll figure it out. And I want to believe him, because he’s definitely the thing I love most about my life. He’s genuinely kind, empathetic, and charming in his own unique way. Although I’d never admit that last one to him, much more fun to let my colours do it for me. It’s why his gift is so much better than mine. Then again he’d mastered his before he started school, and I didn’t even realise mine existed until I was already broken.

And I am broken. I’ve been broken for years. Zel could do so much better than an absolute train wreck like me, but he stays anyway. He stays because he’s about as obsessed with me as I am with him. Has been since we were five. He’s such an adorable idiot, and strong in all the ways that matter. So much stronger than I could ever be. He just takes everything in his stride, even what happened to us in August…

And he did take it in his stride, didn’t he? He must have, because he got to remember every second of it, and he’s not falling apart…