Justin and I had been talking for weeks now, and with each conversation, it felt like the world was a little brighter, a little more exciting. Our connection was effortless, as if we had known each other for years, and the chemistry between us was undeniable. Every word he spoke made my heart race. His deep voice, the way he carried himself even through the phone, had an aura about it—a quiet, powerful masculinity that seemed to fill up the room, even though we were miles apart.
We spent hours talking about everything: our dreams, our favorite music, the things we were passionate about. It was like he understood me in ways no one else had. He made me laugh in ways I never expected, and when he spoke of his plans for the future, I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to share those dreams with him.
One night, as the conversation grew more intimate, we talked about the little things that made us feel loved. I told him how I loved the feeling of someone really listening to me, how his voice made me feel safe, like he was holding me through the phone. He laughed, the sound rich and warm.
"I like hearing that," he said. "You've got a way of making me feel like I'm the only one in the world."
I smiled, my cheeks flushed, the words warming me in a way that felt like the sun on my skin. "I feel the same way about you," I admitted softly, my voice almost a whisper.
There was a brief silence on his end before he spoke again. "Tell me more," he said. "What do you like about me?"
I thought for a moment, then replied, "Everything. Your confidence, your strength. The way you know what you want and go after it. There's something so magnetic about you, Justin. I feel like I'm always drawn to you."
I could hear the smile in his voice as he responded, "You've got a way with words. I like that." Then, he added with a touch of playfulness he said "I haven't really asked you this very important question"
Okay....go ahead ' replied.
"How old are you???.
"I would like you to guess, I said.
"25" he said.
Ohhh I said quite surprised but not really.....
"I'm 19" I said quite casually...
For a moment, there was silence again. He was processing it, I could tell. Finally, he spoke, his tone still calm but a little softer. "19…" he murmured. "I didn't expect that. But you're amazing, Chioma. You've got an old soul."
then teasing, "I'd say you look 25."
He laughed, a deep, rich laugh that made my stomach flutter even more. "You think so, huh?" he replied, his tone softening. "I guess I'll take that as a compliment."
I felt my curiosity get the best of me. "How old are you, really.
There was a small pause before he answered. "I'm 35," he said, his voice steady.
I blinked, a sudden tightness in my chest. "35?" I repeated, feeling a bit thrown off.
He laughed softly, almost as if to reassure me. "Yeah, I know it might surprise you."
I wasn't sure how to react, but I couldn't keep the unease from creeping in. "Oh wow" I said, trying to keep the conversation light, but my voice was quieter now, the words heavier.
I smiled, but it didn't quite reach my eyes. The conversation continued, but the ease we had shared earlier was now tinged with something I couldn't place, an unspoken tension that hung between us. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but I could feel it.
As we ended the call, I couldn't help but wonder if everything had really changed, or if I was just overthinking it. But deep down, I knew something was different now.
-- The Shift in Energy
Ever since that night ..the night the age talk came up,something had changed between Justin and me. It wasn't obvious at first, but slowly, I began to notice it. He didn't call as often as he used to. At first, I told myself I was just overthinking it, but the truth was, I missed him. I missed hearing his voice, the way he'd make me laugh or comfort me with his words. The calls we used to share had become rare, and when we did talk, it felt different. His energy, his presence, it wasn't the same.
It broke my heart.
I tried to push it aside, to focus on the positive things. After all, he was still in my life, still texting me. But deep down, I could feel the distance between us growing. One evening, feeling particularly emotional and frustrated, I couldn't hold it in anymore. I decided to message him.
"Why have you been acting different lately?" I asked, my fingers trembling as I typed. "You don't call like you used to, and it's really hurting me."
Almost immediately, he replied, though his answer wasn't exactly what I was hoping for.
"I'm busy," he said, matter-of-factly. "But you can message me anytime, and I'll reply when I can."
His words didn't make me feel any better. If anything, they made the gap between us feel even wider. I could feel my frustration rising.
"Is that how it's going to be now? You only reply when you feel like it?" I shot back, my words more biting than I intended.
"I'm not ignoring you," he replied, but there was something in his tone that felt distant. "I just have a lot going on."
But I wasn't letting it go.
"Justin, I don't understand. We used to talk every day. What happened?" I demanded, my emotions now spilling over. "You've been distant, and I'm hurt by it."
There was a silence on his end, but it wasn't the comforting kind of quiet. It felt cold and heavy, like he wasn't sure what to say.
I was beyond the point of trying to make sense of it. I needed to tell him how I felt. "I'm really hurt, Justin," I typed, my voice breaking as I said the words out loud to no one. "I need you to understand that."
When I didn't hear from him right away, I decided to log off and sleep, hoping some rest would help me make sense of everything. But when I woke up, I had a message waiting for me.
It was a text from Justin, and there, in front of me, was an AI-generated image of my name, "Chioma," surrounded by delicate flowers. The image was beautiful,almost too beautiful...and it made me smile despite the heavy weight in my chest.
I stared at the image for a moment before replying. "Thanks for making me smile," I said quietly, my heart softening just a little.
He responded simply, "You're welcome."
But even as I tried to let the image soften the tension, I couldn't ignore the nagging feeling inside me. The distance was still there, and we hadn't really talked about what was going on between us. So, I pressed on.
"Justin," I said, the words feeling heavy, "I'm still not happy with how things are. What do we want from each other?"
His response came quickly, but there was a firmness in his voice that I hadn't heard in a while. "What do you want, Chioma?"
I hesitated, caught off guard by how direct he was being. It was clear we hadn't really talked about where this was going, about what we wanted to be to each other. We'd been talking for so long, but we hadn't defined it. I'd tried to avoid the question, but now it was right there in front of me, and I couldn't escape it.
I tried to dodge it, feeling a mix of fear and uncertainty. "Please, Justin, don't make me do this. I don't think I'll get what I want," I admitted, my voice trembling.
But he didn't let it go. "I won't ask you again," he said firmly. "What do you want?"
with a trembling vioce,I said".