I laugh and it's the same bitter laugh I remember him giving when we met so many weeks ago. Isaiah says it so simply that my heart soars and sinks at the same time. I whisper. Isaiah shakes his head and stares out the window. I ask. Because I don't know how the two of us can continue forward. Isaiah refuses to let me in. It's sort of cruel. He's brought me close with his stories of his childhood and with his words of love, but he can't relinquish control. I refuse to be with someone who won't treat me as an equal.