"What's understood..don't gotta be explained. You know as well as I do, that you belong with me. Ain't no two ways about it." His eyes never left mine as he spoke, they only seemed to bore deeper into them.
I was fidgeting in my seat, wishing desper...
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"Having experienced both, I am not sure which one is worse: intense feeling or the absence of it."
➖
I couldn't sleep, not after everything that went down tonight. The playlist, the studio vibe, the way Michael looked at me like I was the only one that mattered. It was too real, and I wasn't used to real—not after everything.
I rolled over, staring at the ceiling in the dark. My mind wouldn't stop racing, and that familiar feeling crept back—the one I hated. It was like every time I started to feel good, the past would come knocking, reminding me why I kept my walls up in the first place.
But it was different now. Michael had opened up to me, really let me in. I wasn't used to that. I was good at playing it cool, keeping things on the surface, only giving people pieces of me while I stayed locked behind the walls I built. And Michael? He noticed, but he never pushed. Not once. He just waited.
That's what messed me up the most. He gave me space, never made me feel like I had to explain myself. And then, just like that, he laid himself bare in front of me, like he trusted me enough to hold what he was carrying.
Now, here I was, fighting to do the same.
**Flashback**
I thought I'd left Brooklyn behind, but no matter how far I ran, it followed me. That part of my life stuck to me like a shadow, reminding me of who I used to be.
I could still remember the first time I met Tye. He had that same kind of energy Michael had—confident, smooth. He knew how to make me feel special, like I was the only one who mattered. But Tye was all flash, no substance. Everything about him was loud—the clothes, the cars, the way he moved through life like it owed him something.
Back then, I thought that was love. I thought the way he showed me off, the way he talked me up to everybody, meant something. But I didn't see what was underneath.
It started small. Little comments here and there. "Why you wearin' that? You know I don't like it when you dress like that." "Who was that dude you was talkin' to? Why was he all up in your face like that?" At first, I brushed it off, told myself it was just his way of looking out for me. But it got worse. He didn't like it when I went out without him. Didn't like it when I had my own thing going on. He was always watching, always questioning.
The first time he grabbed me by the wrist, I remember thinking, This ain't love.
But I stayed. I stayed because by the time I realized what was really happening, it was too late. I was already in deep. Tye had this way of making me feel small, like everything that went wrong was my fault. Like I should be grateful for him.
It all came to a head one night. We were at a party in Bed-Stuy, and some dude came up to me, just talking, nothing serious. Tye saw it, and I knew by the look on his face that I was in for it. He didn't say anything at the party. Kept it cool, kept smiling. But I knew better.
The second we got in the car, everything flipped. He was yelling, accusing me of embarrassing him, making him look stupid in front of everybody. I tried to explain, tried to calm him down, but he wasn't hearing it. His hand was around my throat before I even saw it coming.
He didn't squeeze, but the message was clear. I was his. Nobody else's.
That was the night I knew I had to get out. But I couldn't just leave. Tye wasn't the type to let go. I had to plan it out, save up, figure out how to disappear without him finding me. When I finally left, it felt like I'd broken free from a prison I didn't even know I was in.
**Present**
That part of me? It wasn't something I talked about. Not to anyone. I'd gotten too good at keeping my feelings locked up, letting people think I was good, when really, I was just hiding.
But Michael had cracked something open in me. He'd shown me that it was okay to let someone in. The way he shared his past, the way he trusted me with his truth, made me feel like I owed him the same. He had been patient, never pressuring me, but I could feel it—he was waiting for me to meet him halfway.
I grabbed my phone, scrolling through our last messages. My finger hovered over his name. I could hear his voice in my head, telling me there was no rush, that I could take my time. But I wasn't sure I could wait anymore. He deserved to know why I was the way I was, why it was so hard for me to let him in completely.
"You up?"
I hit send, my heart pounding.
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed.
Papa❤️❤️
Yeah, what's up babygirl?
I hesitated, my mind racing. I wasn't sure how to start, but I knew I had to say something.
"There's something I need to tell you."
Papa❤️❤️
You good?
I stared at the screen, my chest tightening. I wanted to tell him everything, but the words were stuck in my throat.
"Yeah, I just... Can we talk tomorrow?"
There was a pause. I bit my lip, feeling the weight of the moment.
Papa❤️❤️
Of course, ma. Whenever you're ready."
I set the phone down, staring at the ceiling. The shadows of Brooklyn were still there, but for the first time, I felt like maybe I didn't have to carry them alone. Michael had trusted me with his past, and now it was my turn to trust him with mine.
Tomorrow, I'd tell him. Not everything, but enough. Enough to let him know why I was so guarded, why I always pulled back when things got too real.
Because the truth was, I wanted to let him in. I just had to believe that this time, it would be different.
