Love Harder

GHOST.2

He replied a moment later.

I was more than happy to come over. You were so beautiful and intense. I hope my scent lingers for a while. I definitely felt something! You were everything you said you were. I shall speak to you tomorrow. Sleep well x

And this, dear reader, is why I fell so fucking hard because who wouldn’t? Ghost was playing by a handbook crafted especially for me.

The following day, I woke sore all over—body and soul. The pain was a reminder that Ghost was, in fact, real. He felt like a dream. He did from the moment we kissed.

Ghost had sent a message before work. He wished me a beautiful day and said that he missed me. He then said something that any woman wanted to hear from her man.

I could barely get out of bed this morning.

I asked why.

Fucking you took it out of me.

I sent an eye emoji for him to elaborate.

’Cause my whole body melted the moment I came.

I didn’t know what to think, so I asked if this wasn’t the way he usually felt.

His response:

I’ve never felt anything that I do with you before.

Well, fuck me, I was in trouble.

The entire day, I purposely didn’t check my phone. I kept busy. I didn’t want to miss a message from Ghost. I was trying not to be emotional, but the thought of this being a fling was hard to stomach.

I began questioning my decision. Was sleeping with him the wrong choice to make? Was he going to prove to be like most men out there?

But he wasn’t.

He messaged me after work, just how he always did, asking how my day was and that he missed kissing me.

Where did this man come from? Was he too good to be true?

He was every book boyfriend come alive.

He was an alpha, but kind.

He was possessive over his girl and wasn’t afraid to show it.

But most of all, he wasn’t afraid to express himself in ways most women want and need from her man.

The night after we had sex was the night we spoke for hours. And that’s no embellishment of the truth.

The sex had only brought us closer, and Ghost opened up to me so much so I honestly began to fall and fall hard.

This was fucking ridiculous, but I couldn’t stop.

I told him he took my breath away, and his reply was:

I’m glad I take your breath away because you do the same. I’m just glad you liked me because you’re so cute and gorgeous. And you do match me in the bedroom.

I was a goner…

He commended me on my career and how brave and confident I was putting my words on show for the world to pick apart. He admired my determination and called me strong, knowing how emotionally damaging being an author can be at times.

He just…got me.

We spoke about anything and everything. It was nonstop. It went on into the early hours of the morning. We were half asleep on the phone, not wanting to end our exchange. But in the end, sleep prevailed.

He made plans to see me on the weekend, and his sign-off was enough to leave me a giddy mess:

I can’t promise I won’t break you some more…

I was falling for Ghost, and not once did I ever question it.

It was a nice change as my previous “relationship”

left me questioning who I was in the end. But not with Ghost.

He always told me I was beautiful. Or that he missed me. Without fail, he asked how my day was going. He was a sweetheart, a sweetheart with a filthy mouth because we just wanted another one more and more.

It was insane. Our chemistry left me breathless.

His passion left bruises, bruises which I asked for, and when I sent him a picture, his response, such an alpha:

I see I did some damage; consider it my way of marking you.

I couldn’t wait to see him again.

The messages he sent were so fun and heartfelt and so damn HOT!

I like telling my girl what to do and ordering her around just before I put her in her place.

YES FUCKING PLEASE!

The morning of our date, however, Ghost texted me and did the unexpected:

Good morning, gorgeous. I’m sorry this is such a late reply! I’ve been absolutely flat out. I didn’t catch a break yesterday. I’m okay. Just overwhelmed this week! We might need to push the mojitos. I’m sorry ?

I didn’t know what to think. Had I been wrong about him this entire time? I refused to believe it, but this wasn’t good.

My insecurities threatened to drag me under, and I was afraid I would surely drown this time. But Ghost knew me better than I thought when he sent a quick follow-up message.

And please don’t overthink or get triggered. I’m here. Just busy, sadly. I miss you so much.

I had told him about my triggers and how I overthink. And he knew this would happen by postponing. But he put my mind at ease immediately.

He came back a few moments later, again to prove he wasn’t canceling altogether.

Postpone till next Friday? All the drinks on me!

Okay, this was good. He was giving me an alternative date. He wasn’t blowing me off, right?

The thing about an overthinker is that we are our own worst enemies. People tell us to calm down. Stop overthinking. Well, if we could, we would. But we can’t. We want more than anything not to overthink, to trust and not make ourselves sick with worry, but it’s not that easy.

Overthinkers need good communicators, and Ghost was just that. But this still got me feeling out of sorts. The harder we try to calm down, the worse things become.

And this was what happened.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I don’t need enemies. I don’t need someone telling me I’m stupid or worthless and don’t have a lick of talent because I tell myself this every single day.

So when the boy I was falling for canceled our first proper date, these thoughts screamed so loudly that I had to cover my ears and shut out the noise.

But the noise was in my head. And it was getting louder and louder, so fucking loud that I couldn’t breathe.

And when someone can’t breathe, they panic. I thought he didn’t like me. That I was making a fool out of myself. That he had lost interest and was too nice to say it.

And the message I sent reflected exactly that:

Have things cooled down? I felt like I knew what you wanted when we first started talking.

I felt confident you wanted me as much as I wanted you. You were as hooked on me as I was on you. You were thinking about me all the time as I was with you.

And you persisted to come see me every chance you got. Now, I don’t really know. I LOVE that you’re career-focused and ambitious. And that always comes first.

But if you have no time for yourself, then how will you have time for me? And I would never expect you to. If I don’t feel wanted, I will run away.

I can’t help it. Wish I could change it. I hope I haven’t fucked anything up. I hope you still want to kiss. Sorry, am just thinking aloud.

This right here is inside the exasperating mind of an overthinker.

It doesn’t make sense, but it does to me. I didn’t see the fact he gave me reassurance and love. All I saw was him saying no, I don’t want to see you. My scars are that deep and often prohibit me from seeing past the pain.

And when I am scared or in pain, I run.

I often get asked why I run for fun. And the answer is, the farther I run, the harder I push myself. I often feel as though I am running away from my trauma, and for a sliver in time, I can breathe. The voices quieten, and I feel at peace with my head and my heart.

So that’s what I did.

I ran fifteen kilometers that day, and halfway through, Ghost replied.

I was so scared to see his response. I was certain he would run away like his predecessors. I wasn’t worth the hassle.

I was high maintenance.

I was drama.

Or so I was told anyway.

But what I read…what I read was the moment I knew Ghost was different from any other man before him.

You haven’t fucked anything up. Don’t say that. You’re literally the sweetest human being I’ve ever met. You’re so caring, and I find it so beautiful you accept me for me.

I don’t want to stop kissing you. You kiss me so passionately, like I’ve always wanted to be kissed. This is how I am the majority of the time. I’ll be upfront;

I can get so caught up and can’t manage work and my personal life. But I am trying to do what I can. I still want to try with you! I’m sending you big kisses, and yes, I still want to fuck the bejesus out of you.

That right there is a man who, regardless of his fears and anxieties, put me at ease. He was open and honest and assured me everything would be all right.

I needed to accept this for what it was, no matter how hard that was, and let nature take its course. I needed to trust in the universe because what you put out there is what you get back.

So I meditated.

I manifested.

I did anything to help clear my heart and mind.

Things eventually settled, and then, three days later, we had our date.

I was so nervous.

I consulted with M?tley on what to wear.

We decided cute but casual.

I wore a black little romper, showing off my leg tattoos which I know he liked. My makeup was simple, but my signature red lips were the star of the show.

Ghost knocked on my front door.

I opened it and saw he had red roses in his hand. He had on black jeans and a black shirt, which complemented his three-day growth.

He offered me the flowers and kissed my cheek.

He smelled so damn good.

Once the roses were in water, he drove us to a vegan restaurant. He had told me he was organizing it all. I was beyond impressed.

He tried everything I suggested, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t vegan. I don’t force my beliefs on anyone, but it touched me he would try something new, knowing how important being a vegan is to me.

Ghost wasn’t afraid of PDA. He held my hand. He kissed me briefly as he got up to use the restroom. And he made sure everyone knew I was there with him.

This was such foreign ground for me, but I soon learned the rules, and I liked everything he was throwing down.

When we left, he held my hand and kissed me under an arch of lights. It was the perfect first date. He took me home, but I was surprised when he didn’t come inside.

He had to work early, and I respected that. His work ethic was admirable. I also liked that this, whatever it was, wasn’t based on sex.

He did yank me onto his lap and kiss the ever-living fuck out of me before I went inside, unable to wipe the smile clean from my face.

Ghost came over during the week.

The message he sent a day before made me giddy:

You’re so beautiful. I miss your lips so much. I just want to make out and kiss you so passionately all over. One more sleep and I’m all yours, and well, one more sleep and I’ll be destroying you all over…

And he kept true to his word.

The moment I opened the door, I saw him and nothing—nothing—existed but him.

He pulled me into his arms and kissed me like it was the last thing he was doing before he died.

He smashed me up against the wall and kissed me with passion and love—my most favorite kiss of all. He was vocal, and I loved that he didn’t mask the effect I had on him. It reminded me of the text he sent that said I kissed him how he always wanted to be kissed.

I pulled his hair.

He grabbed my throat.

He bit me all over.

My god…the things we did that night.

The sex lasted for a very long time. It was intense. It was the stuff you read about in the books I write. But I was living out every scene I had ever written with the one MC who was stealing my heart and soul.

He was rough.

He was soft.

He kissed me until my lips were swollen.

He fucked me so hard, I cried.

He threw me around and owned me because that night, I was his, and he was mine. I didn’t think I’d ever felt more connected to another human being than I did that night.

It was far more than sex.

It was a tether between two broken souls who stayed afloat by the other.

I fell head over heels for Ghost that night.

It just wasn’t the sex. Okay, maybe it was a little the sex. But the way he touched me, the way he made sure I was all right when he defiled me over and over again, it was fucking raw and still kills me to this day.

He looked into my eyes and pressed his forehead to mine as we locked as one.

He never broke eye contact.

He wasn’t gentle, but he was.

I know that doesn’t make sense, but he consumed me. And I allowed it because I lowered my walls for the first time ever and let him in.

It was take and give.

Give and take.

We were lost in one another, and it was so much more than I ever thought it would be.

He dragged me onto him, and I pressed my ear to his chest, listening to the steady staccato of my lover’s heart—a heart that was so big, too big for this world.

We spoke for a long time. About anything and everything. He caressed my back. I ran my fingers through his hair.

It was everything I wanted. He was everything I wanted.

We interlaced hands, and I loved looking at his black fingernails.

His hands healed me in every single way.

We had spoken over the past few days about his birthday, which was tomorrow. He said he never celebrated it, so I wanted to make it special this year.

I hinted I wanted to get a gift, but he objected to that strongly. He said what we did the night we first met was gift enough.

He never asked me for anything, so I got him something small, but it meant the world.

Superman is an important part of my life, since I was a child, as he reminds me of my dad. So because Ghost was soon becoming my Superman, I got him something to represent that.

It was small—a Superman key chain with a little blackboard for a card which read:

You’re my Superman.

Happy Birthday x

He opened it and instantly put the key chain on his keys. It meant so much to us both.

I also gave him a cupcake with a candle and sang him “Happy Birthday.”

He was touched, like it was something no one had ever done for him before.

He ate the cupcake, then kissed me with frosting all over his mouth.

Those were happier times.

We kissed that night at my door, unable to say goodbye. He said he would organize another date at the zoo or aquarium this time, as he knew I loved animals.

We made such big plans.

He slapped my ass as he always did, and then he left.

But those plans never came to fruition because that kiss, that intense kiss, was to be our last…I just didn’t know it yet.

Good night, beautiful. I hope you have an amazing sleep full of beautiful dreams. I miss you so much, you sexy fucking goddess. I shall speak to you in the morning.

That was what I woke to.

I had fallen asleep and didn’t receive his message until the morning and only awoke to another message he sent early in the day.

Thank you for my gift. I really love it, and I will cherish it. Now, I feel like Henry Cavill more than ever. I hope you had an amazing sleep and don’t feel too crippled. I’m sorry I’m hard to read. I don’t try to be. You’re way too beautiful.