Page 31 of Love You Like That

I stood alone for a moment, staring blankly at the produce again, the reality hitting me. Ezra was my present but Jaylen was a reminder of the different life that could still pull me away. My parents would adore him. No tension, no questions. Easy acceptance. And maybe that’s what scared me most. As I checked out, my phone vibrated. Jaylen was already texting me.

Great seeing you, Yavanni. Good luck with your interview. Don’t forget our coffee.

I stared at the screen, thumb hovering. And Ezra’s name popped into my head like a vivid memory, pain and love tightly intertwined. I had decisions to make quickly.

E v e r yh o u rt h a tpassed without speaking to Yaya weighed heavier than the last. Silence wasn’t usually hard for a nigga like me. I lived in it most of my life. I wrote in it and thrived in the shit. But this kind of silence felt wrong and bitter like medicine I knew I needed and couldn’t swallow.

For four days I stared at my phone, reread texts I typed but never sent, and questioned whether hitting send would make shit better or worse. Pride held my hands still. Actually, a mix of pride and fear, and beneath that was raw hurt. I kept hearing her voice from that night echoing painfully clear in my head.

“Maybe… love or whatever this is isn’t enough.”

That shit cut deeper than any line I’d ever written. Because if love wasn’t enough, then what the fuck was?

I’d replayed the Yaya's graduationgatheringin my mind a thousand times. Her Pops disapproving stare. Her mom's polite but cold questions. The way Yaya’s whole vibe shifted around them like she was embarrassed by the way I existed, by how raw and real I chose to be. That shit stung every time. And now, with New York in two days, the pressure doubled. If my life was about to shift, shouldn’t she be right there with me?

Instead, I was at the lounge by the bar pouring shots, trying to act like my heart wasn’t in pieces.

“Another?” Mekai asked, holding up the bottle of Henny.

“Pour it,” I muttered, voice low, eyes fixed on nothing.

“Ya know,” he started, sliding the shot glass across the counter, “you been in this spot four nights straight. Same sad ass face, same fucked up mood.”

I downed the shot quickly, welcoming the burn. “Mind ya business, bro.”

“Nah, nigga.” He leaned forward, eyes serious. “What’s really good? This 'bout her?”

I exhaled, running my hand over my face roughly. “Who else would it be?”

“Did you call her yet?”

I gave him a look. “Nah. Pride’s a bitch.”

“Yeah, and it’s makin' ya ass miserable.” Mekai shook his head, pouring another shot. “Look, you gon’ either let that pride suffocate you, or you gon’ swallow it and call ya girl. It’s that simple.”

“It ain’t simple,” I snapped. “Her Pops looked at me like I wasn’t shit and she let him do it. She ain’t stand up for a nigga or back me up. Just stood there all quiet and shit.”

Mekai nodded slowly. “Maybe she was stuck, E. You ever think 'bout that? It’s hard choosin’ sides especially when those worlds clash.”

I shook my head bitterly. “Nah, man. That’s the problem. She shouldn’t have had to choose.”

He sighed, setting the bottle down. “But life ain’t clean like that, E. Sometimes you gotta fight for the shit you want. Sometimes it hurts. But if she’s the one, you gotta handle that shit differently. Fight differently. Let her know you in it.”

I leaned back, closing my eyes, his words soaking into my stubborn skin. “Yeah. Maybe.”

“Either way, you got that New York thing poppin’ soon. Clear ya head. Make sure you ready.”

I nodded. “I know.”

“Good,” he said firmly, dapping me up as I stood to leave. “Fix ya shit, bro. She’s good for you.”

I left the lounge, thoughts louder than the street noise. At the crib, I took a long shower, hot water pounding over tense shoulders, chest tight, jaw clenched. Afterward, I was still restless as fuck so I poured myself a drink and grabbed my notebook.

Sitting on my couch, I let the pen move, spilling out everything I couldn’t speak aloud. The words came fast, messy, raw.

Love ain’t simple when it bleeds this deep,

Two worlds clashin', promises we keep.

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