"I'm not used to being loved. I wouldn't know what to do." - F. Scott Fitzgerald
Chris was outside by his pool laying on his springboard. All he could think about was what his final decision would be. She wasn't asking him for the world, though she deserved it. All she asked of him was love and affection. For him to open up and let her in––– she was welcome in his home, anywhere else he belonged to, but the place she wanted to be let inside was his heart. His battered, gloomy heart, misty and cold. Why she wanted his, remained a mystery to him, but he couldn't deny her absence turned his life upside down. He wanted to give her all the love he had left, to give her all his passion, but he wasn't sure if she was ready, if he was ready, or if he ever would be. Painting the collection dedicated to her gave him clarity on what he wanted to do. On what was right. Between being around her again, her scent lingering within his nostrils, and her warmth still being wrapped around him snugly the only thing he was thinking of was how he could find his way back into her arms and stay at home, forever.
"Coco, how do you always get in here?"
"I have my ways," She dropped her clutch and got comfortable on the chair that was near him. "So here I am. You said you wanted to talk?"
"I know you're growing frustrated with me, but I didn't think I was right for you, I still don't. You should be married with kids right now happy."
"That would happen if you would stop playing." Despite him trying not to he cracked a little smile and put his head down. "I've tried to forget you, I can't, but I will if I have to. We've been way too intimate to act like strangers. I can say for a fact that I'm beginning to fall in love–––"
"I'm broken, and because of that, you'll waste your time trying to pick up those pieces and piece them back together, rather than piecing together your future with somebody. I don't know what the fuck love is, Robyn. All I know is pain. Everyone I love, I ruin. I hurt everyone who's been close to me. You say you're falling in love with me? How the fuck am I supposed to catch you?"
"I don't need you to catch me. I want to love you, I am, but you're trying to make it so hard, and for what? You've opened me up to something real, something different, and I don't want to experience the possibility of love with anyone else, but I will leave for good if you keep pushing me away. It's almost been two years, Chris, my patience is wearing thin. I don't want to hurt you, I just want you to be safe. I promise this won't be a mistake. You've been hiding, and I've allowed you to, but it stops here. Open your heart Chris."
There were so many questions coursing his mind, but the number one question being: how much does love really cost? The question was paralyzing his thoughts because past love affairs cost him everything. Love was supposed to be priceless, yet the ones he tried loving made it seem expensive shortchanging him for affection. "Christopher, have you ever opened up 1 Corinthians 13? Love is all that you need." Never had he met a woman that demanded attention––– commanded it even. She had him changing his perspective on what he thought to be true.
"Chris, let me in."
"I want to, but–––"
"Christopher, do you want me to leave you alone?"
"No."
"Then, baby, let me in."
He rubbed the back of his head. "I lived in an abusive household growing up, I went through that shit every day. She was the sole reason for it, my Mama, but I never had one. I wish I did. Not having a Dad didn't make it easier, and my Uncle dying of a heart attack made it harder. I would cry out for her sometimes, but she always neglected me. Those niggas were always more important than her son. Never caring about how much she was hurting me––– reminding she didn't love me, always threatening to give me up, locking me out of the house at night as punishment. I didn't know what I did back then to deserve all that shit, and to this day I still don't, but it hurts."
