Fear grips me then.
Real fear.
Not the kind I felt talking to my mother.
Not anger.
Not frustration.
This is deeper.
Because what if I hurt him?
What if I triggered something I didn’t understand?
What if he thinks I don’t want him?
When all I’ve been doing is trying not to want him too much.
I close my eyes for a second.
Just one.
Trying to steady the storm inside me.
Trying to separate fear from truth.
But the truth?
The truth is loud.
Clear.
Unavoidable.
I open my eyes.
“Where is he exactly?” I ask.
My voice is different now.
Not shaky.
Not unsure.
Focused.
Because whatever this is?
Whatever just happened?
I’m not running from it.
Not again.
Not like I did before.
Not like I was conditioned to by my mom and Judd and everyone else who judged me harshly because I was just too much for them.
