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133

Isabella

Paula was being unnecessarily ruthless with my hair. Normally, she would have slathered on some conditioner and begun to comb my hair gently. Instead, she kept yanking on the curls with her brush, almost pulling out my brain in the process.

"Did something happen?" I questioned her as she yanked on a strand.

She seemed extremely guarded. "Well, whatever it is, can you please, please, and please stop pulling out my brain!" I yelled the last part as she yanked on my hair again.

She suddenly stopped and looked at me with wide eyes. "Michael," she said suddenly.

"What about Michael? He's not giving me anything to work with. I love him but…" She paused, "He doesn't let me in. Everything is so superficial and all about how we feel. I feel a lot, so I need more than that. I need assurance. I need to be sure that he's… I don't know why he can't just be like Damon."

I paused, thinking about Michael and Damon, and somehow striking a balance between the both of them.

"Damon is the man he
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