Page 35 of Delayed Intention
So much is unsaid in this room right now.
I turn to Lily, unable to take the guilt anymore. “Lily—” I start, but she finishes it.
“Drive safely,” she says to the floor, turning and taking her niece’s small hand in her own before they walked down the hallway together.
When I returned to Rose’s house, my mother informed me she plans to stay in Lincoln for a while at Rose’s, so she’ll be able to visit her and get her anything she will need from the house. Roselyn is going to head home in a few days with her daughter, but David has extended his trip to help as well. Rose is going to have surgery in the morning to repair her hip, and my mother was calling her children to let them know what happened. She told me she spoke to Ray Mendes, who is coming out, as Ellen is unavailable. Barbara, Susan, and their families are already close by and will be at the hospital tomorrow.
My mother looks at me, not revealing much emotion with her face, but she is wringing her hands.
“I guess you can drive back home now.”
She rises, starts to say more, shakes her head, and leaves me there. When I climb in my car, I blow out a breath. Part of me wants to go to Lily’s room and make sure she is okay, but after my behavior tonight, I know I don’t have the right.
I play an audiobook without hearing it as I drive home. It’s a seven-hour drive, and I originally was going to stop at the office on the way back to drop off gifts. I end up just driving straight through. I’m too late to pick up Ginger from the kennel, and my house feels lifeless without her energy.
The next morning, I stopped at the post office down the block from my home to pick up my mail. There is a letter from Lily—she must have sent it before Hanukkah even began. I walk to grab a coffee before heading back to my car to pick up Ginger. I feel her letter burning a hole in my jacket pocket the entire way home.
Hurt
Josh, Estes Park, December 2024
Dear Josh,
Hi! I’m due to see you in a few days, so I’m unsure if this will reach you before then or not. We shall see. For some reason, the idea of seeing you in front of my family is making me nervous all over again. I feel like we just found our way back to being friends, and now we’ll have interlopers.
During our years apart — my fault, of course — there were two things I missed the most about having you as a friend. One was that you would not dismiss my feelings, which is a common occurrence in my family of origin. The other thing was how you wouldn’t try to fix me. This means that being around you allowed me to relax enough to be myself because I knew you would accept me as I was. These days, I have that in Abbie for sure. I do hope you get to meet her sometime soon because in my head, you both have been super important to me.
There is something else I’m anxious about. When we are together in person, it feels like we are doing well, but we aren’t face-to-face; I worry that you were just being polite. As in most of my relationships, I wonder what someone can get from being around me. From my perspective, I require so much work without enough reward.
This is one of the reasons why I gave up on dating, let alone finding a boyfriend. Well, there is more to it than that, as you can imagine.
I guess this part is going to be extra personal.
Here is my fear: What if I never get over not wanting to be touched, unless I’m intoxicated? What kind of partner can I be for anyone?
There are very few people in my life who can bridge that physical divide. Ironically, my mother is one of them. Nona. You, when we were younger (or when I am drunk—so embarrassing).
But what happened in the past turned what was an aversion into a sense of dread. It is as if I can feel the divide between myself and the other person grow with physical contact. I’m in therapy, but I don’t know if or when that will ever get better.
As much as I love the idea of falling in love one day, I don’t think it’s something I will experience beyond the vicariousness of a novel or a movie.
Case in point. The other day, I spoke with Roselyn and told her everything about that doctor I told you about. At the end of all of it, she needed to hug me, I could tell. I gave her that hug I could see she wanted, but for me, it felt like the connection we’d made by talking was immediately severed because suddenly, with that contact, we were on two different planets. It was like I was zigging with her, and her need to touch me was a zag, and I was out in the cold, alone again, feeling adrift.
So, what about you?
What’s your excuse?
Why are you still single after all this time?
A young-ish hot doctor with a cabin-house in the mountains and the most adorable dog? You told me in the story about Rachel and what happened with her (yikes), but not why you’re not open to being in a relationship in the first place. You skipped that part… Don’t think I didn’t notice. I know what happened with your father, but you’re smart enough to know you are nothing like him, right?
Fill me in on the enigma that is you when I see you in Lincoln—inquiring minds want to know.
Your friend, Lily
P.S. I’ve decided to move to Nebraska. I gave my work 2 weeks’ notice and everything. Will fill you in when I see you but the short version is I just got Rose back—why would I let her go?
SettingLily’sletterdownon my desk, I feel my stomach drop as I run my hand through my hair.No, wait, why should I feel guilty? I didn’t know any of this when I was in Lincoln.But I know the answer. If I had the balls to be her friend when our families were in the room, she would’ve told me all of this when I saw her. I want to feel defensive but know I’ve fucked up, badly. Cursing myself, I consider a morning shot of bourbon in my coffee. Instead, I grab my phone.
