love·sick | adjective
A tender or urgent longing for love; to express a lover's longing.
•
In a world where power, fame, and fortune are second nature, Beyoncé knows how to control everything-except her heart. After a chance encounter with a myste...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Beyoncé Giselle Knowles Nicki's Apartment
The phone felt heavier than usual in my hand as I listened to her breathe on the other end. We hadn't spoken in days, and the silence between us had felt like a canyon—widening, deepening with each passing hour. But now, her voice was there, fragile and unsure, cutting through the emptiness I'd been trying to fill.
"Can we talk?" I'd asked. It was more of a plea than a question, my voice barely masking the weariness I felt.
"Yeah," she replied, her voice soft, almost hesitant.
I don't know what I expected. Part of me thought she wouldn't answer. Part of me thought she'd tell me this was it—that she was done running from whatever this was between us. But that didn't happen, and now, with her on the line, it's like everything I've been holding in is bubbling up to the surface. I have things I want to say, things I need to say, but I don't know where to start.
I pull the phone away from my ear for a moment, glancing at the clock. It's late. Later than it should be for a conversation like this. But it feels like we're running out of time, like if we don't talk now, we'll lose whatever it is we've been trying to build.
"I'm coming over," I say before I can stop myself, already grabbing my keys.
There's a brief pause on the other end. "Okay."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The drive to her apartment feels longer than usual.
The city is quieter now, the lights dim, and the roads nearly empty. The quiet should be soothing, but it only amplifies the noise in my head. I've spent so much time thinking about her, replaying every conversation, every moment, trying to figure out where it all went wrong.
But the truth is, I already know.
I was pushing too hard, trying to force something that maybe wasn't ready to happen. And she... she was scared. Scared of me, scared of herself, scared of what would happen if she let me in.
I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my heart pounding in my chest. This has to be different. If we're going to make this work, it has to be different.
