“So are you going to write about me if this goes bad?”
I laugh and tell him I’ll write about him regardless.
He seems genuine.
He talks about how we are all nothing more than an army of broken hearts and aching souls.
I like that.
I can’t quite read him.
He listens as I talk about how I wouldn’t have gotten here without being there… I’m vague..guarded.
Sometimes even seeing the silver lining isn’t enough to dissolve the lump in my throat.
You see you don’t just let go of person in an instant.
You let them go again and again.
You let go when you are at the store and see a bag of your favorite gummy bears that you used to share with them.
You let go when you find the toothbrush they left at your house and realize it’s time to throw it away.
You let go when your favorite song that they sent you comes on your playlist and your heart drops.
And being here, in his small hip apartment feels like I’m fighting every part of my most basic instincts.
I purposely dressed down and my cheeks burn with awkwardness.
Maybe I should have stayed home with Penelope.
But… the only way to move forward is to become profoundly uncomfortable….
And that I am as I stand in his kitchen unsure of what to say or how to stand.
I play with his oversized white and black cat. He chases after the elastic band I fling across the room and brings it back.
His cat is easy to read. He definitely likes me!
This is a slow deliberate step.
It’s raw and painful.
He rests his elbow on my thigh and I tense up.
I try to remember how unexpectedly I have found so many of the things that ended up changing my life.
Blindly and blissfully I let him reach out and kiss my mouth.
Trusting the universe.
Knowing that it is leading me somewhere indescribably worth going.