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I’m no longer the one in control, and I don’t want to be.
I simply say, “Hi.”
She starts by taking a deep breath. “There’s something I need to tell you…”
“Go on,” I say.
“There’s this thing that’s been bubbling up and bubbling up, and I can’t ignore it any longer. And not having you here with me, it’s made me realize what I’m feeling. And I can’t keep it inside anymore.”
“Tell me.” I lean forward. “What is it?”
She heaves a sigh, then says three words that change everything. “I love you.”
Love.
The most dastardly four-letter-word of them all.
She says those words, and then, she waits.
Her words hang between us, heavy with meaning and expectation. The weight of her declaration rests heavily on me like a burden I’m not sure I can carry.
I’m obsessed with her. All I think about is her. Since she came into my life, the only thing I want, crave, and need…
Is her.
Ophelia has become my entire world.
Her voice gets quiet. And she asks me a dangerous question. “Do you love me?”
I lock onto her beautiful blue eyes, searching my icy soul for the words I’m unworthy of saying. Her expression brims with hope and vulnerability as she waits.
All she wants is three little words.
How do I tell her I’m not capable of giving her the pure, sweet love she deserves?
I offer a controlling, manic… maniac kind of love, needing every ounce of her to belong to me. My chest burns with self-loathing. I never, ever want to hurt her.
Her expression falters. I’ve waited too long to answer. I owe her this much; I owe her at least an answer.
Finally, I say, “You’re the only thing that matters to me anymore. But you deserve more.”
She sets her jaw. Her eyes narrow. Her gaze hardens.
“Then give it to me,” she challenges me. “I know you can.”
She’s constantly pushing me, demanding I be the man I say she needs. Can I be that man? I don’t know.
But maybe she does.
I trust her. Implicitly. I’ll tell her what I know; then, she can decide what kind of love she deserves.
I bare my soul to her, desperately hoping that even in my screwed-up state, I am enough.
I say, “You’re the first thing on my mind in the morning.” Desperation edges into my voice. “And that’s saying a lot because my mind is such a mess when I wake up. When I close my eyes at night, I see your face. I love everything about you. I want to be with you every moment of the day.” Wishing I could reach through the screen that divides us and hold her, I plead with her to understand. “I want you. I want all of you. Every perfect inch of you.”
She stares at me. “That is love, Haze.”
I allow her words to sink in. Can it be this simple? Everything I’m already feeling for her…