Free Afraid to Love by Leona Jackson

living room.
    I opened the door to see a rather tall mail man holding a large envelope under one arm and his signature tracker in his other hand.
    “I have a package for you,” he said with a grin.
    “I didn't order anything,” I said.
    “Well, someone sent you a present,” he chuckled. “Just sign here and you can find out.”
    I rolled my eyes and signed his computer. He handed me the package and I sighed. It didn't have a return address and it felt like a bunch of papers. It reminded me of the package I had received when Daddy died. I studied the envelope and remembered that day. I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the memory.
    The envelope didn't have a return address so I almost didn't open it. I don't like surprises, especially when I don't know who they're from. Tentatively, I opened the envelope and looked inside. I was right, it was a stack of papers. I pulled them out and read the first page.
    The Ebony Heartbreak
    A story? I arched a brow. There was only one person I knew who was crazy enough to send me a story. I almost threw the pages into the trash, but decided against it. Even if it wasn't as good as his previous novels, it was something to spend the afternoon reading.
    I poured myself a glass of sweet tea and settled down into my favorite armchair. As I skimmed through most of the story, I slowly realized that Mark was writing about me, or at least that was my best guess. The book was longer and wordier than his previous work and described even the smallest thing in absolute detail.
    “Her lips quivered in suppressed laughter and joy before curving into two lipstick stained crescent moons. A smile! I had achieved it. I longed to caress her soft ebony jawline, to trail my fingers over her inviting flesh, but I knew better. A man does not touch an untamed animal no matter what temptations pulls at his primitive mind.  
    “She observed me from under her long lashes, as a lioness watches her prey through the tall grasses of the African savannah. My heart pounded against my ribcage, shaking my soul.
    “Laughter bubbled over her crescent moon smile, sending a peculiar sensation through my flesh. I pushed my chair away from the table. The ebony beauty had more in common with a lioness than I had first thought. Her bubbling laughter was her roar. It sounded again, but this time its vibration traveled through the whole room.
    “My angry instincts took over and I stood up. What was happening beyond my comprehension at the time, but looking back she was warning me away. She was communicating her downfall and mine.
    ‘Leave!’ she was saying, ‘Leave! Get away from me! This drought will doom us both.’
    “I was thirsty for her kiss and she for a touch she had denied herself like some self-righteous guru. She abstained from what she wanted, but not out of loyalty or devotion. Her fast from the primal longing for a touch of a hand against one's flesh wasn't out of love for herself or a higher being, but out of fear. Fear of existence itself.
    “My ebony beauty wasn't much different than the lioness fearing an intruder in her territory. It wasn't arrogance or confidence that sent her chasing off the visiting tom that tried to court her, but fear. What would happen if she gave an inch to this invader? What would he take from her? Was there anything besides her own vessel left to her?
    “My body longed to wrap itself around the frightened ebony lioness and fill her well of being with joy, love, and yes, myself. I did not want to tame her. All animals that the creator put on the planet have the right to exist in their own way. Instead, I longed to merge with her for the brief time that our imperfect forms of incarnation would allow, to give to the ebony lioness a gift that would chase away her fear. I wanted to be the full moon and stars above her head, lighting the dark and chasing away the threats, but all my longing was for not. The ebony lioness was happy in the dark.”
    I blinked and reread the