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A BLACK GIRL RUNS THIS BLOG BITCH

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“Life is too short to waste time on people who don’t lift you up, who don’t inspire you - they’ll eventuelly drain you.”
— Katie Kacvinsky, First Comes Love
“My main goal in life right now is to be happy.. thats all”
— Unknown
“Not everyone who comes into our life is meant to stay. So stop holding onto people who clearly don’t want to be with you.”
— Unknown

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Too Much
michael b.jordan x black reader
Summary: In which, a comment by a one of Michael’s close friends leads to your insecurities pooling to the surface, and you can’t help but start pulling back in your relationship. Worried about if you’re too much.
Author’s note: Okay, y’all I feel like I’m bearing my soul here with this fic. I will admit that I am a certified yapper, but not in the way of wanting to have attention on myself, but I genuinely like having conversations with people. And if it’s a topic that I’m passionate about, then I start yapping and not realizing that I’m doing it. Growing up, I was used to people (even family members) making blatant comments to my face about me talking too much or even saying, “Don’t you get tired of all that talking.” Which I will admit caused me a lot of trauma and insecurity with talking in front of others. So this is a fic that I’m writing to all of my girlies who have ever been made to feel like they’re “too much” or that their “yapping is a bad thing.” Please keep being your authentic selves. You are JUST enough. You deserve to be HEARD. You deserve to be listened to. And the right person made just for you won’t ever think those are flaws! Okay, enough of my soap box. I hope y’all enjoy!
You were what most people liked to refer to as a yapper.
You loved a good yap. The art of yap was something that you were skilled in. You practically had a Ph.D in running your mouth. It was something that followed you throughout your entire life. Your mother even swore that once you learned to form words in your toddler stage, you hadn’t stopped talking since. Your mother would sit across you as you played with your toys and babbled away about things that were going on in your child-like world. Though it was often frustrating and tiring hearing you mindlessly chatter, your mother wouldn’t stop you from talking. There’d be the occasional call of your name, but no serious admonishing on your part.
The thing about it was: you weren’t talking to gain attention towards yourself. In fact, it was quite the opposite for you. With you, you loved talking and you loved hearing other people tell their point-of-views about their lives and interests. You had a natural talent of making everyone feel included, or feel like they were safe enough to open up to you. God forbid anyone mention a topic that you were passionate about, you’d go on for hours and hours about the topic, while making sure to still remain respectful to the other person and hear their side.
However, other people weren’t as appreciative of your yapping. They actually found it to be quite annoying and would blatantly tell you so. Growing up, you’d heard numerous family members comment on your habit. You remember one such instance of a family gathering in which you were surrounded by family members. You remember the conversation diverging to movies which began your passionate yapping. You loved movies. They were always a passion of yours and you loved to share any movie knowledge or recommendations with others. During the middle of your talking, one of your uncles interrupted, “I swear every time I see this girl, she’s always running her mouth.”
Immediately, you felt your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Your face became flushed in embarrassment and suddenly, it felt like the entire room was watching you. You felt the insecurity began to creep in and slither into your veins. Had you been talking too much? Was everyone annoyed? Of course, they’re annoyed! This is what you always do.
You talk too much.
You can’t go one minute without running your mouth.
You’re so annoying and no one wants to be around you.
You felt the sting of tears behind your eyes, but you quickly willed them back. Your voice became quieter during the family gathering. You shrunk yourself further and further inside of yourself. The insecurities were swarming around your head like incessant gnats. You quietly manuvered the environment until you left your room and sat in your bedroom until everyone left. That night, you felt your heart beating faster and faster in your chest, as your mind wondered if you were being a nuisance to your family with your talking.
So you made an executive decision: you just wouldn’t talk at all.
Problem solved, right? No. Of course not. Any Black household knows that you’re not allowed to be silent without it being a problem for the general consensus. You felt that your plan was righteous and justified. If everyone had a problem with your talking, then you’d cease to do the thing that was burdening them. You could still hear the insecurities float through your mind as another family gathering was planned.
At the family gathering, you were more aware of your behavior. Quaint. Demure. But most of all, quiet. Though it made you angsty to not be included in the conversations with your family, you figured that this was for the best. You thought you were being subtle in your behavior, but of course, there always had to be someone who noticed.
You couldn’t recall if it had been an aunt or a cousin, but you remembered the sound of your name being called followed by the question, “Why aren’t you talking?”
Immediately, you felt a sudden rage boil through you. First, you were being told that you talked too much and that you were annoying. Next, you were being called upon to explain your silence. It felt like you couldn’t win in a losing battle.
As you grew older, you learned to care less and less about the opinions of others. You didn’t need to justify yourself to them. You had just as much of a right to express your passions, and you wouldn’t let anyone shame you for it.
The right person, your person, wouldn’t mind your talking at all. In fact, they would find it so endearing that they would love to hear the sound of your voice, and they would find comfort in hearing your words, even if they were mindless rambles.
At your current age, you were sure that you had found your person.
Michael Bakari Jordan.
Sexiest man alive. Certified nerd.
It was funny how you met Michael. It was a casual day, in a random shop that sold various media forms of anime. Growing up, your love of cinema, translated over to animated movies and cartoons. You respected the art of a good cartoon just as much as any live action movie. People who stated that anime was for kids truly didn’t know what masterpieces they were missing out on. They’d never know the sheer excitement that came from watching Goku turn Super Saiyan for the first time. They’d never experience the heartbreak from watching Tetsuo be consumed by his hatred and rage in Akira, or even feel the binding love that transcends time between Howl and Sophie.
Naturally, you were in this store on this fated day that you met the man. You casually sipped your iced coffee and browsed through the collections of manga and vintage VHS tapes. Through your excitement with the prospect of purchasing one of these pieces of art, you neglected to watch where you were going, which led to you colliding into solid mass. Your drink splashed partly onto the hoodie of the other person, who reached out to quickly steady you.
Looking up, your concerned eyes met another set of deep brown ones, “Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I ruined your hoodie!”
Quickly, you rummaged through your purse and found your stash of napkins. Without thinking, you grabbed the man’s art where the drink had splashed and dabbed the napkin into the soaked fabric. A few minutes passed of you doing this before you realized what you were doing. A blush crept up your neck before you let go of the mystery man’s arm. “I’m sorry. First, I ruin your hoodie and then I started rubbing your arm like some creep.”
The man in front of you chuckled and shook his head, “You good, ma.”
As you looked closer into the man’s face, you immediately recognized him more. Groaning and running your hand across your face, “I hope you don’t think that was some weird way of me trying to touch you.”
Michael laughed more at your embarrassed expression, “I mean when you put it like that, it would be a good method. But don’t sweat it, I’ve had way weirder interactions with fans trying to get my attention.”
“Well, at least, let me pay for the dry cleaning for your hoodie. It’s the least that I could do.” You offered, pointing at the stained hoodie.
Michael shook his head at you, “Nah, you don’t gotta worry about that. It was an accident anyways. I think it was on me just as much as it was you. I wasn’t paying attention either which means I owe you an apology for making you waste your coffee.”
“It’s okay. I guess we both were just engrossed in the content. We can call it even,” you said reaching your hand out to Michael. Grabbing your hand in his, Michael shook it and smiled at you. Your heart began to beat faster when you took in the man’s deep dimples. You pulled your hand back to not appear thirsty in front of you.
“It was nice to meet you. I’ll let you get back to your browsing. Sorry again about the hoodie.” You said, turning to continue your journey. You didn’t look back at Michael for a response and started your journey into the 80’s and 90’s section of anime. You picked up a copy of Perfect Blue and smiled to yourself. Michael, on the other hand, was stunned by how quickly his interaction ended with you. He was used to people feening for his attention and hogging it when he finally decided to give it to them. But not you. You had turned away from him and continued with your shopping like he was just another regular guy. He liked it. He liked that in that moment, you treated him like another guy.
He craved the normality of it all. He was so used to having his every move be analyzed by people. Having fans fawn over your every move was nice, but sometimes, he just craved to have another person just see him as normal. In his eyes, he was a regular guy. Albeit, a man with many box office hits under his belt, but a certified nerd at the end of the day. Gazing over at you from the corner of the store, he saw you intensely locked onto the 80s-90s anime section. Your beautiful face was scrunched in concentration, and he could tell that you were genuinely locked in.
Carefully crossing the store, he stood next to you and pretended to browse the section. Your fingers carefully slid over the titles until you landed on one and pulled it out with an excited squeal. Michael chuckled and it seemed to be only at that point that you noticed that he was standing there. You made eye contact and smiled at each other.
“What you got there?” Michael asked, tilting his head to the side to gaze at the title of the movie.
Immediately your eyes lit up as if a spark was ignited. “Perfect Blue. You ever seen it?” You questioned, holding out the tape to Michael. Michael shook your head and you scoffed slightly, “I’m sorry Mr. Naruto hasn’t seen one of the most iconic animated movies of all time?” You both laughed as you waved your hands around to empahsize your point.
“I can’t say that I have. What’s it about?” That simple question alone sent you into an entire lecture about the plot of the movie, along with prominent themes that most people would miss on their first viewing experience. You further elaborated on design choices and colors present in the movie. It was like you were a well of knowledge and your passion for the movie really shone throught. It was only when you realized that you were still rambling while Michael hadn’t said anything. The intense look on his face said that he was completely locked into every word that you were saying.
There was a flare of insecurity that coursed through you, as you wondered if you were embarrassing yourself in front of your celebrity crush. How were you going to give off mysterious and sexy if you continued to ramble?
“Sorry. I get carried away sometimes, especially if it’s a movie that I like,” You said sheepishly.
“Don’t apologize for that. Ever. It’s cute seeing you get all lit up about your passions, and I can tell you’re actually interested in this and not just on a surface level.” Michael said, staring into your eyes. For a moment, the two of you held eye contact before you broke it.
You handed the VHS tape over to Michael, “You should take it. I think you’ll really like it.”
As you handed the tapes over to Michael, your hands brushed against one another. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach, and suddenly, you were transported back to the feeling of when you had a crush as a child.
“I should let you go. I hope you enjoy the movie,” you said, turning to leave again.
Michael watched as you moved to go to the door. He felt something shift inside of himself, and there was that distinct feeling that he shouldn’t let you go. He felt that if he let you leave out of that door, he’d never get a chance to see you again. Michael wasn’t one for just random chances, but he believed in fate, and he believed that some force had dropped you into his life for a reason.
He quickly jogged up to you and grabbed your wrist. You turned to him in surprise, “How will I be able to tell you that I liked the movie?” Okay..not his best pickup line, but with you, he felt like he didn’t need some suave pickup line.
“I guess I didn’t think about it like that. Well, maybe you just post it on your Instagram and thank the random girl who threw her coffee drink on you for the recommendation.” You joked, waving your empty coffee cup around.
“I could do that, or I could take you to get another cup of coffee, and you give me more anime recommendations. Then, if the coffee goes well, I get your number so that I can tell you just how much I liked the movie.” Michael suggested, searching your eyes.
Wait.
Was Michael B. Jordan asking you out for coffee and asking for your number?
This must be one of those dreams that you have on a random weekday, and you wake up with a distinct longing in your chest as it dissipates. However, as you came back to the present moment and noted the longing in Michael’s eyes, you concluded that it was all real.
You nodded your head and flashed him a smile.
Those simple gestures would cement your place in Michael’s life from that day forward.
_____________________________
Over ten months later, you had officially become Michael B. Jordan’s hot nerdy girlfriend. After your initial coffee outing, you and Michael had texted frequently throughout the following weeks. He had sat down to watch Perfect Blue and couldn’t resist the urge to immediately text you to give his review of the movie.
Next, he recommended a show to you.
Then you would recommend a show or movie to him. You’d both immediately text the other to debrief on shocking moments or even themes that you noticed. You both were meticulous with your planning and recommendations for each other.
It had become an official love language between the two of you, even though you weren’t even dating.
Texts turned into phone calls. Phone calls turned into FaceTimes. FaceTimes turned into dates. Dates into intimacy. Intimacy, in turn, became the foundation for a healthy friendship and relationship. You had never felt more comfortable and safer in a relationship than the one that you crafted with Michael.
He was your ‘Kari, and you were his Princess. A nickname that came from his favorite animated movie, Princess Mononoke.
Here was another thing. Michael loved to listen to you talk. He loved to see you get lost in a passionate rant about things that interested you. You were naturally curious and always researching, so it was only natural that you wanted to share your new knowledge with him. He’d sit patiently across from you and give soft ‘mhmms” to show that he was listening, and would even ask follow-up questions. He’d sit there with this sweet, love-struck look on his face as he watched the corners of your eyes crinkle as you spoke. It was always refreshing to hear you speak.
Any other man would’ve been quick to point out your habit, but Michael had never given you an indication that he was irritated or annoyed with you. He just sat and listened. You could almost cry at the safe space that he had created for you to express yourself freely.
As with the good, there always comes the bad.
And your bad just happened to come on a random Wednesday of all the days.
You often spent a lot of time at Michael’s house rather than your own rented apartment. It wasn’t anything intentional on your part, but you just naturally ended up at Michael’s house. He had practically moved half of your stuff into his house without you noticing. All of your favorite products had their own designated space within his bathroom. He had even unconsciously started to pick up your designated pads and tampons in case you ever started your period over the house. He knew that you preferred to have the thick pads with the wings. (Sorry to all the Thin Mint pads girlies–no shade). Even when he went grocery shopping, he found himself picking up certain products that he knew you liked to eat when you came over. Shoot, Michael had even bought your favorite bonnet that sat permanently in the drawer next to his durag.
If that wasn’t love, then you didn’t know what was.
It started on Wednesday, Michael and his homeboy, Jones, were sitting in the game room, playing Call of Duty. You were in the other room, running your mouth with your homegirl. Your laugh could be heard through the crack of the door. You maneuvered past the door and went to grab snacks for Michael and Jones. You did not doubt that they had run through their acquired snacks already.
As you walked up the stairs, the crack in the door let you in on the conversation that was happening between your man and his friend. You stopped at the door as you heard Jones say your name.
“Dang man, your girl know she can run her mouth. You don’t ever get tired of all that yapping,” Jones said, continuing to press the buttons of the control, as if he wasn’t insulting you.
It wasn’t Michael’s friend’s comment that bothered you. It was the fact that he didn’t immediately jump in to defend you. It was his response that opened Pandora’s box of your insecurities.
“I mean…yeah man, it can be a little too much at times. But that’s just her personality.”
Too much.
A little too much.
You felt the tightness enter your chest, and the panic started to overcome your senses. Tears filled your eyes, but you took a deep breath and willed them away. You were not about to be caught crying with Doritos and Dr. Pepper in your hand.
You composed your expression and knocked on the door. Michael and Jones both looked back at you as you entered the room.
“Hey baby,” Michael said, leaning over and placing a kiss on your head as you passed him the snacks.
“Thank you, I swear we ran through the snacks as soon as we started the game,” He said, continuing to press buttons on the controller. Jones quickly thanked you before locking back into the game.
Clearing your throat, you turned back to Michael, “Hey, imma head out. I’ll see you later.”
Michael quickly turned and looked at you with a frown on his face, “I thought you were staying over tonight.”
“Umm..I can’t. I forgot that I gotta go run some errands in the morning.”
Michael frowned at you more, “I can just drive you there.”
“Nah, it’s good. It’s with the girls anyway.” You lied. Truthfully, you had planned to spend the weekend with him, but the little conversation put a damper on those plans.
Michael continued to eye you. He felt like there was something off, especially since you wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Okay, well, text me when you get home.” He pulled you down and pressed his lips against yours. Instead of the usual deep kiss that you would give him, you quickly ended the kiss. As you turned to leave, Michael gently grasped your wrist, “You good?”
Quickly, you nodded. “Alright, I love you, Princess,” Michael said, looking into your eyes.
“Yep, love you too,” You said quickly before turning to leave.
As he turned back to the game, there was something in his intuition that told him that something was off with you. Jones cut his eyes at him, “You and your girl fightin’ or something?”
“Nah, man, she was all good when she came over here,” Michael said, racking his brain for the answer.
“She on her period or somethin'?”
“Nah, her period won’t be here until next week.”
Jones pressed the pause button and turned to him, “Nigga you keep track of her periods?”
Michael laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah, man, that’s my girl. I love her. And let’s backtrack on that earlier comment, don’t be talkin about my girl running her mouth. She can talk just as much as she wants to, especially around here. Sure, you may think it’s a lot, but I love that about her. She’s expressing what she’s passionate about, and the fact that she wants to share that with me means the world.”
Jones nodded, “My bad, man. I didn’t mean it like that, but still, I’m sorry.”
With that, they both returned to their game while Michael’s mind was still preoccupied with figuring out what was wrong with you.
_____________________
After you left Michael’s house, you spiralled.
Your mind became preoccupied with all of the times that you had rambled around Michael. Had he been pretending all of those times when he listened to you talk? Was he secretly thinking that it was too much the entire time, but just too polite to say it aloud?
As the thoughts continued to go through your head, you felt the tears from before begin to surface. Before you knew it, sobs radiated through your empty apartment. You stood in the middle of your living room, all alone with your insecurities.
You moved to your bedroom and picked out a simple, oversized T-Shirt to sleep in. You lay in the middle of the bed and stared aimlessly at the ceiling. You felt your phone buzz beside you and noted Michael’s name on the screen.
Kari
Hey, did you make it home?
You looked at the screen and locked it again. You didn’t have the energy to pretend that everything was okay, so you turned over and went to sleep.
Your heart felt even heavier as you pondered if you would ever have a moment where you didn’t feel like this. Where you didn’t feel like you were too much.
______________________________
Saturday came and went without Michael hearing your voice. You had responded to his text messages, but even your replies were off. You weren’t texting with the same amount of excitement as before. It was a lot drier. Michael continued to rack his brain for a possible explanation of something that he did, and each time, he came back blank.
When Sunday came, he made the executive decision to drive over to your apartment. He picked up your favorite flowers, along with your go-to order from the cafe that you liked. He knocked on the door and waited for you to answer.
You answered the door, and to the normal eye, you looked normal. You were still your usual beautiful self, but to Michael, you looked off. He could tell that there was something off in your demeanor, even as he leaned down to kiss you. Closing the door, you grabbed the flowers from his hand while thanking him. You quickly put distance between you and Michael and worked on putting the flowers in a vase.
You continued to shape the stems to your liking and arranged them in the vase. Throughout this time, you had yet to meet Michael’s eyes. He reached across the island to touch your hand. Finally, you looked up at him, but continued to steel your expression.
“Is everything okay, Princess?” He asked, moving around the island to stand in front of him.
You nodded stiffly, “Yeah, I’m just not feeling good.”
Michael’s expression softened as he pulled you closer into his chest. A few tears escaped your eyes, and you were quick to wipe them away.
“You need me to run out and get anything? Soup? Heating pads? Medicine?” Poor Michael, he just assumed that you not feeling good meant that your period had started earlier than expected.
“No, can we just sit and watch TV?” You asked in a small voice.
Michael nodded and guided you to sit down. He pulled you closer to his chest and handed you your coffee to sip. While you watched TV, your body relaxed into Michael’s arms, but your brain continued to run rampant with insecurity.
Michael looked down and noticed you staring off into space. Whatever you were dealing with, it wasn’t just simple menstrual cramps. It was something more, and he was determined to find out.
In that moment, he wished that he had superpowers so that he could see inside your pretty head and make it all better.
______________________________
In the following weeks, you and Michael returned somewhat to your normal routine, but there was still something off with your behavior. You spent less and less time at Michael’s house and more at your own apartment. It wouldn’t have been noticeable at first to any random person, but for Michael, he noticed everything.
He noticed how you had slowly started moving your items from his home. Graphic tees that sat next to his were removed one by one. That loud hair dryer that you had brought over 3 years ago was removed from the bathroom. The groceries that he had bought were untouched and unopened.
The straw that broke the camel’s back and confirmed Michael’s suspicions of you removing your things was that your trusted bonnet no longer sat beside his durag.
Yeah, something was definitely wrong here.
His immediate thoughts went to the fact that you were planning to break up with him, but he questioned why. Things were going well between the two of you. Were you seeing something that he wasn’t? He had even been working up the nerve to ask you to move in with him. Had even gone to get an extra copy of his keys to put on a special keychain for you.
But if you were planning to break up with him, had he missed the signs leading up to this?
He looked over at you sitting across from him on the other couch. You were multitasking between working on a project for work and watching the episodes of Mitchiko and Hatchin, even though you had seen them more than you could count.
He called your name, and you looked at him in surprise, “Come here for a second.”
Like a baby deer, you took hesitant footsteps toward him until you were standing in front of you. Sitting up, he ran his hands up your legs until they reached your thighs. He pulled you forward until you were straddling his thighs. He could feel your body begin to tense up, but he rubbed his hands across your body and felt you melt more into his touch.
“What’s going on, Princess? You’ve been quiet lately and more withdrawn. Was it something that I did?” Michael asked, searching your eyes and pleading for an answer.
You looked at him. Really looked at him and stared deeply into his eyes. You could see concern paint the corners of his irises, yet you still couldn’t bring your lips to tell him. It was as if you said it–told him what you had heard, then it made it real. It made it concrete, and you were terrified of what it meant if you had the conversation. Would he finally tell you all of his true feelings about you and explain that he actually was exhausted at hearing you talk all the time? Would he do that thing where he hinted at wanting to break up, but danced around, actually saying the words?
You were afraid to journey down either of those paths.
So you lied. Well, only partly.
“No, uh, I’ve just been having a couple of off weeks. You know, bad brain days and all that.” The way you said it, all constricted and stiff, let Michael know that you were only partially telling the truth. Over the course of your ten-month relationship, he had learned to read all of your tells.
Clearly, there was something wrong that you didn’t want to talk about right now. Michael accepted that he would have to wait a little longer for you to come to him. But for now, he would make sure that you knew that he was there. Patient. Willing. “I know something’s wrong, but I can see that you’re not ready to talk about it. I just need you to know that I love you. Whatever you need, I’m right here for you. Always.”
With that, he pulled you further into his body. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and relaxed your head into his neck. You could smell the faint cologne that he liked to wear throughout the week, and it brought you more comfort than you could express. He clearly loved you–at least that’s what his mouth was saying.
Maybe you could try to make this work.
____________________________
A week later, Michael’s family had decided to have a big get-together that would be hosted at his parents’ house. Naturally, you were invited as Michael’s girlfriend. Your relationship with his family had progressed as your relationship with Michael grew. Any time that his family had an event, they naturally expected you to show up alongside Michael.
Things between you and Michael were still tense, even though you craved for things to return to normal between the two of you. You knew that it was a bit childish for you to not communicate with Michael, but confrontation had never been one of your strong suits. You grew up in a home that treated confrontation or negative emotions as a battlefield. You had learned to suck up your feelings and hide them beneath a poorly painted facade to uphold peace. You always became anxious when it came to having hard conversations, thus you usually tended to avoid them.
You and Michael were dancing on a delicate line within your relationship.
Walking up the front door of his parents’ home, Michael opened the door and ushered you in with his hand on your back. The two of you walked in the kitchen and were greeted by his parents. You were all smiles as you hugged his mom and dad. Michael’s father asked him to come help him with grilling. You were left in the kitchen with Michael’s mom, sister, and aunts.
As he exited the kitchen, Michael noted the natural ease that you had with the women in his family. Maybe you’d be more open to sharing with the women in his family as opposed to him.
You listened intently to the conversations that were happening around you. Each of the women shared tea and updates from their own lives. Michael’s aunt was telling the story of how she suspected that her neighbor’s wife was cheating on him with their other neighbor. The conversation shifted at multiple points, yet you only added minimal feedback to the conversation. You were trying to be normal, you really were. But there was still the fear and conversation that rang through your mind. If Michael was thinking that you talked too much, then maybe his family felt the same way?
Unbeknownst to you, Donna Jordan kept a watchful eye on you.
You were a favorite of hers by far in terms of her son’s girlfriends. Similar to Michael, she liked how passionate you got when you were talking. She had noted your talking, but what she liked about it was that the words that you were saying weren’t empty. Each word always had an intention behind it. You both had bonded over your work as a nurse who specialized in Black women’s health. You were passionate about the overall well-being of black and brown women, especially in a world that treated black women like an afterthought.
It was through her own time of getting to know you that she could easily pick up on the fact that something was wrong with you. You weren’t your useful, lively self. You were quieter and withdrawn. A little too stiff for her liking.
It just so happened that your eyes met hers, and you gave her a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes.
She would definitely be pulling her son aside to see what was going on.
As the cookout progressed, the food was set out in the kitchen. Naturally, the women in the family, including you, had taken up the duty to fix plates for the children and men. Michael watched as you listened intently to one of his little cousins as they told you everything that they wanted on their plates. He watched the ease with which you naturally adapted to the child’s request and helped them. He imagined what that would look like one day when the two of you had kids of your own.
After you had made his cousin’s plate, you worked meticulously on making his plate with everything that he liked. Donna watched you as you made her son’s plate and admired the obvious care that you were putting into making it. It was obvious that you loved Michael, but there was still something there.
Sitting next to Michael, you continued to listen to the conversations around you, still with limited feedback of your own. It wasn’t until you heard your own name being called that you looked at one of Michael’s aunts, who was addressing you. “Baby, you’re a nurse, what do you think about all of this that’s going on with the hospitals and women’s reproductive health?”
You placed your fork down, “It’s horrible. I mean, not only does it hurt women all over who are trying to have babies, but it especially affects a lot of black and brown women. So many black women already fight to have their voices heard in the labor and delivery room, but these recent changes just allow more negligent care to happen when black women are delivering their kids.”
You continued your talk, and every person there hung onto every word that you said. Michael seemed more entranced than anyone at the table. It was the most that he had heard you talk in weeks, and he realized that he missed hearing you go on your long rants. God, why had you been keeping your voice from him?
Michael’s uncle, who sat on his right, leaned over, “Aye, nephew, you got you a good one. You might wanna go ahead and marry her.”
‘That’s the plan.’ Michael thought to himself.
____________________
Later, everyone sat in the living room and continued to enjoy each other’s presence. Michael went into the kitchen to check on his mother, who was cutting up slices of pie for everyone.
“Hey, ma, you need help with anything?” He asked, standing across from her.
Donna shook her head and continued to cut the pie, “Naw, baby, why don’t you sit down for a second? Is there something going on between you and that baby in there? She just seems a little off since she got here today.”
“I was meaning to talk to you about that. I don’t know, ma. It’s been weird between us for a couple of weeks. I asked her about it, but she just keeps saying that it’s nothing. I keep trying to see if it’s something that I did, but so far, I can’t come up with anything.”
In the living room, you sat next to one of Michael’s cousins and casually talked about how she was doing in college. You could hear the sounds of the younger kids playing and talking with each other. One of the kids, Nala, talked animatedly. Her little hands gestured wildly around her, and it seemed like her words were going a mile a minute. You and a couple of the adults in the room were tuned into her little speech.
“Lord, that lil girl know she can run her mouth. I hope she grow out of that cause don’t nobody find all of that talking attractive.” Michael’s uncle stated. There were a few sounds of agreement from the other adults in the room, and you felt yourself tense up.
The conversation shifted, but none of the adults noticed that Nala had heard her uncle’s statement. Immediately, you watched as she quieted down and saw her begin to withdraw within herself. She quickly got up, tears filling her tiny eyes, and walked quietly out of the room. None of the adults was aware of the turmoil that the little girl was going through. But you. You saw Nala, and you weren’t going to let her carry that burden alone.
Standing up, you followed behind Nala and found her sitting in one of the spare rooms in the Jordan household. Slight sobs racked her tiny body, and you felt your heart break for her. Knocking lightly on the door, you stood in the doorframe, “Hi, do you mind if I sit here with you?”
Nala nodded, and you sat next to her on the floor.
She wiped her hands across her face, but tears continued to escape her eyes. “I’m sorry that you heard that. You know, you deserve to talk just as anyone else.”
Nala sniffled, “I’m not trying to be annoying. I just get excited when I’m talking. But everybody keeps saying that I talk too much.”
You nodded your head softly, “I know how you feel. When I was growing up, people used to always tell me that I talked too much. They would make me feel bad for expressing myself, but I want you to know that there’s nothing wrong with you. Your voice is important. It’s a gift. And you know what, somebody out there needs your voice. I’m a nurse, which means I work with many people who are ill. I work with a lot of women who are having new babies, and sometimes they get so scared. But once I start talking to them, they feel better. You’re going to do that one day. Someone out there is going to thank you for speaking.”
Nala hung onto every word that you said. Right there, she made up her mind that she wanted to be just like you. She wanted to use her voice to help others in the world.
“Now, why don’t you tell me all about those Disney princesses that you were talking about earlier. And don’t leave out any details.”
With that, Nala launched into an animated conversation with you about Disney princesses. That’s where Michael found you. Sitting on the bedroom floor beside Nala, engrossed in an intense conversation. He could tell that both of you were enjoying the conversation. His heart clenched in his chest, and he knew that even more, he wanted to marry you.
By the end of the night, everyone was leaving with their to-go plates in hand. Nala was exiting the house with her parents, but not before she turned back and ran towards you. You bent down so that you could be eye level with her, and immediately, the younger girl launched herself into your arms. She whispered something in your ear–a secret that was only meant for the two of you.
She gave you one last smile and ran back to her parents.
Michael placed his arm around you and pulled you close to his side, “So you and Nala best friends?”
“What? You jealous?” You joked, poking him in his side. You and Michael continued to joke with each other, and his mother watched you two fondly.
She prayed that everything would be okay between the two of you.
__________________________
On Sunday, you were at Michael’s house.
It was your normal routine between the two of you. You would casually lounge around the house together, enjoying your respective coffees and each other’s company.
You were working on a creative project on your laptop.
“I’m going to the bathroom. Be right back,” You said, standing and stretching.
Michael continued to sit at the kitchen table and casually scrolled through his phone. Your laptop dinged, announcing that you had a message. A couple of seconds went by before another ding sounded throughout the kitchen. Michael moved to lock your laptop, but stopped once he noticed that your messages were open.
Now, he wasn’t one to snoop, and it was all an accident, but he only looked at your computer because he saw his name pop up in your messages with your best friend.
Bestie
So you still haven’t told Mike that you heard him and his homeboy talking about u the other day??
You
No…i always start to say something, but then I stop.
You know how i feel about confrontation
Plus, I’m just scared of what he’s going to say
What if he just finally decides that I’m too much and this isn’t what he wants?
Bestie
Girl, I promise you’re not too much. You’re perfect.
Just talk to him and let him know how you’re feeling. If he decides that he can’t handle you, then forget him.You deserved to be loved for every single aspect of you . I’m here if you need me…..or if you want me ball his lips up.
You
Okay ima go talk to him now. I’ll let you know how it goes.
Michael heard the sounds of your footsteps coming down the stairs and quickly moved away from your laptop. You rounded the corner and looked at him, “Hey, baby, can I talk to you?”
Michael nodded, and you sat across from him.
There was a quick beat of silence in the kitchen. You rubbed your hands around your designated mug that had a home in Michael’s cabinet. “I know that you’ve noticed that I’ve been acting weird lately. I only told you half of the truth when I said that I was having a bad brain week. I have been having a hard time mentally. But…it’s because..well, I heard you and Jones that day. The whole thing about me running my mouth. It wasn’t the fact that Jones said it–I mean I’m used to people commenting on that. But it was you, you said ‘yeah man, it can be too much at times.”
Sighing, you looked down and felt the anxiety claw beneath your ribs, but you pushed it down. You had to stop being afraid of tip toeing around other peoples’ feelings and sacrificing yours.
“Quite frankly, Michael, it hurt. Not only did you not correct him, but you agreed. You know how hard it’s been for me with hearing that statement throughout my life. I told you how much it hurt to hear that growing up! I thought that you liked it about me, but you said it was too much.”
You paused, tears of frustration stinging at your eyes, “I’m tired of making myself smaller so that you and everyone else can feel comfortable! Yes, I talk a lot! I like to run my mouth, but you know what? I don’t see that as a flaw. I thought that you didn’t either, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe you aren’t my person at all.”
With that, you felt a huge weight lift off of your shoulders. You had been carrying this fear and pain around for weeks, and it felt nice to finally release it. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought. Your feelings were your only priority at this moment.
Michael watched as you let out a deep breath. Your shoulders visibly relaxed and he realized just how much you had been carrying these past weeks. All of that pain and he was the one that started it. Guilt bloomed at his chest. He should’ve been more careful with his words, especially when it came to you.
“I’m sorry.”
You looked over at Michael, who continued speaking, “I’m so sorry, Princess. You’re right, I should’ve corrected Jones in the moment, and I shouldn’t have said what I said. You have every right to feel that way that you do. I’m sorry that you’ve been having to carry this all alone, and that I’m the reason that you felt that you had to.”
Michael rounded the table and kneeled in front of you. Your eyes were looking past him and Michael felt crushed at seeing the pain that was there. You had always been someone who wore their emotions on their face, so it was often hard to hide it. He noticed you playing with the rings on your hands–another nervous tick. He grabbed your hands and softly massaged it between his.
“Can you look at me,” He asked, hoping to catch your gaze. Your eyes finally met and Michael made sure to keep your attention on him, “I love you. I love you so much that I wanna spend the rest of my life with you. Seeing you around my family made me think about our future together. Baby, I want all of that with you. You took time out to sit with Nala, talking about Disney princesses. I couldn’t imagine any other woman that I would want to my wife and the mother of my children. I love hearing you talk. Even if it’s about something small, like that day when you wanted to talk about different clouds and which one was your favorite. I’m not annoyed with hearing you talk. Actually, hearing you go on those lil rambles is the best part of my day. I’m constantly checking my phone to see when you’re coming over, so I can hear what new thing you learned. And, I’m so sorry for making you feel any other way.”
You played the words over and over in your head.
A sudden smile overtook your face, “You know that’s the longest I’ve ever heard you talk since we’ve been together.”
Michael laughed and pulled you closer to him, “Princess, you’re the only one that I would ever give monologues like that too. If you want me to spend the next days of our lives together showing you how much I love you, then I will. Hell, I’ll send you an-hour long voice note if you want me to baby.”
The two of you broke into loud laughter. It was a running joke between the two of you because you often liked to send Michael long voice notes about something that was going on. Michael called them your little podcast episodes, and he always kept each one that you sent. He liked to hear your narration for each story and how you would change your voice, depending on who was apart of the story.
“You’d start a podcast for me, Kari?”
“Princess, I’d start a whole production with 20-episode seasons if you wanted me to,” Michael said. He leaned forward and kissed you deeply. He wanted to convey his love to you, in every sense. He needed you to know how much he cherished you.
“Now can you catch me up on everything that I’ve been missing about you. And don’t leave out any details.”
Your eyes lit up and with that, you went to yapping, and filling Michael on everything in your world. He sat and listened patiently. And you know what, he never got tired of it.
He could listen to you for hours.
His little chatterbox.
His future wife.
Yeah, he couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.
end.
Nobody:
Michael listening to you yap:
[◉°] Yenara

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