I tenderly respond. “Thank you for that, Micah.” I give him my most genuine smile. For now, I feel okay with all of this.

“Just remember, I’m here for you, if you’re ever, ready to pick up the pieces of what we had before. I’m not sure how things will turn out with Liza, knowing you’re back in my life. Just know this, none of what happens with her is your fault. I just can’t promise she’s my future.”

I don’t reply, because I have no words. There goes my okay feeling. To be honest, my heart is too preoccupied with my unstable emotions to worry about theirs. I have to consider my well-being, first and foremost. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want Nick or Liza hurt, but Micah needs to try at least to get me out of his head. Any promises of what could be, need to be forgotten. Too much has happened, and I’m afraid that ship has sailed…long ago.

I agree, it will be harder having him in my life instead of him out of it, but I need to stay strong and remember our lives took different paths for a reason.

I watch him as he slowly opens my door and escapes out closing the door behind him. The minute I hear my door click shut, my tears once again descend. Not a minute later my door re-opens, but a different pair of arms are pulling me against a warm chest. These set of arms, although strong, and inviting, are not the arms I seek. Knowing what is good for you and what your body wants, can be two entirely different things. Moments ago my lips were reminded of what they had missed for so long.

With my eyes clenched tight, I desperately try to hang on to the feelings of Micah’s body pressed against mine. His lips are caressing mine, his hands pressed firmly into my skin, and his soft words whispered into my ear. The internal war to push him away is met with my desire and yearning to wrap myself in him, instead. I want to surrender, every ounce of me as I yearn for the chance to have him take control of my body again. My aching heart, combined with the wetness between my legs, only prove how much I want his hands and mouth on every inch of my body. My dream however, is interrupted.

“Are you okay, El? He didn’t screw with your head, did he?” Nick’s voice is sounding predatory.

A garbled laugh escapes because I was just thinking about Micah screwing with me and it’s exactly what I want. Just not the way Nick is talking about. Oh God, I need to get that idea out of my mind, this minute.

Biting my lip, I try to control my heightened arousal. I need to be alone, and I need Nick to leave, so I can think straight.

Mustering a yawn, I let it linger. “I’m okay, just tired and ready to go to bed. I’m mentally exhausted.”

“Want me to stay with you, tonight? Liza left with him.” He says as hope shines from his eyes.

He says the exact opposite of what I wanted him to say.

Sighing, I realize he’s so upset he can’t even say his name. “You can call him by his name, Nick. It's Micah, and I’m not going to fall apart every time I hear it.” Taking a nice, slow breath, I plead with him. “You go home, I need to be alone.”

Pausing a moment, he finally gets it. “Okay,” he says nodding at me. “I get it, just call me if you need to talk.”

“I will and thank you. Nick, you’ve always been here for me.”

Walking toward the door, he pauses and turns back. “I’ll always be here for you.” He says as if wanting to say more, but he doesn’t. He smiles one last time and walks out.

Finally by myself, I’m suddenly aware how alone I really am. I strip out of my clothes, put on a pair of shorts and a tank, and find my way under my covers. The lights are off, and like every other night, I’m seeking comfort by gazing at the bright, night sky. The moon shadows are like a flash of life, finding home in the depth of the darkness in my life.

I’ve always found comfort in the darkness. In the shadows, my cries go unnoticed. I can fall apart, and no one is the wiser. Over time, I’ve found that I’m most comfortable in the dark. I can mask who I am, and I’m not judged, or frowned upon, I don’t disappoint anyone, either. It’s just me all, alone. Years of being alone, help me guard my heart.

Tonight, I find no comfort in gazing up at the moon. No, tonight I feel stripped, bare and exposed. I’m lost, having no clue how to act around a guy I have loved for so long. How can I watch him in the arms of my friend, and not come unglued? When he touches her, am I going to be able to smile and be okay with it? It’d be pretty damn hard to tell yourself its okay to not want those hands to yourself instead.

While trying to fall asleep, I’m so afraid, because I’ve got no idea what to do. I need a plan. A plan to be happy that my friend is in the arms of the guy she adores, knowing I’m in love with him.

As I drift into slumber, I’m being pulled in a different direction. My body jerks, and moans escape my throat. I’m not sure what’s going on with me in my dream until I hear it. It’s faint, but it’s gradually becoming clearer. It’s the cry of a newborn. I know that cry, I’m being pulled back to April 5^th exactly four years ago today.

OH GOD, MY MUSCLES ache, and I’m sore. I’m white knuckling the sheets under me with my eyes clenched shut, wishing like hell I had someone with me. The whole time I’m being stitched up I’m silently praying I’ll get through this day with my sanity. I’m desperate to have someone hold my hand, telling me everything will be okay. I wished, but looking around at the sterile glances and less than warm smiles, they don’t comfort me one bit. My body is shaking like a leaf, every tug of the stitches reminds me how split open I was and it damn near has me hyperventilating.

Hearing his cries, I’m frantically trying to get a look at him. They took him right away, acting as if he’s not at all mine. They know he’s being given up for adoption, and I’m strangled with the possibility they may never let me see him. His arms and legs move wildly, every cry escaping his mouth is a dagger piercing my heart. He’s not just a baby, no, this baby is mine. No matter if it’s only for a short time.

With every tear that descends my cheeks, they are filled with joy and pain, each just as strong having to accept what will never be. I’m alone, frightened, and at the moment, having my heart ripped to shreds. Finding out he’s a boy after all this time, hurts a bit more. The idea of knowing Micah has a son unsettles me more. I can picture them together, holding hands, playing ball. Realizing this will never happen, I slowly try to distance my emotions. To survive this alone, I’ll have to try like hell to numb every emotion I know will hit me like a tidal wave.

The moment he tore his way into the world, he made his presence known. He was energetic and lively. A full head of hair from what few glances I had of him. The nursing staff paid little or no attention to me. They just carried on charting his apgar scores, never once pausing to update me on his condition. Unlike most other mothers in the delivery unit, I’ve got no husband, no boyfriend, or even a mom with me.

No, my parents made this decision for me. They went ballistic when I informed them I was indeed pregnant, at sixteen. Repeatedly, they told me I was too young for the responsibility of raising a child alone. No way could I care for a baby when I was a mere child myself. Micah’s leaving, forced my hand to do this by myself. He had left right before I found out. Shocked, surprised and out of my mind scared, I had hoped I could find comfort and understanding, with my parents by my side. Well, I was dead wrong and being an only child, I had no one else. That made me miss my grandparents even more. My grandmother, Faye, she would have stood by my side without question, but my reality was what it was. No close friends, I spent what free time I had with Micah.