Every waking thought I had belonged to Emry Logan. It became apparent to me that I was becoming obsessed. Obsessed with finding out about him, why he was in jail, the next time I would see him and all about his life. It was exhilarating yet exhausting at the same time. And then I started to feel depressed again. Winter was still trying to move in. The air remained brisk and cold but snow had yet to remain on the ground. I didn’t know when I would be able to see him again. My mood was altered by the moment. I was hoping my family wouldn’t be able to notice the changes in me, though I had my doubts. It felt as if I jumped at any little question they asked me, fearing that they thought something was off. I was fearful that they’d start asking me questions about my emotions, and I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to handle those questions, or more specifically, handle the lies that I knew I would tell them. I walked through the motions of every day like I was supposed to, like what was expected of me, but my mind was never where I was.
