Page 67 of Delayed Intention
“I’m safe. No immediate risk of harm. It’s just, I have a broken heart.” Which is when I burst into tears.
Monica waits for me to catch my breath before she continues. “Do you want to talk about what’s happened, or about how you’re feeling?”
“I wrote a letter. Can I read it to you?”
“Okay.”
I read her the letter. I told her about the bar. What Josh said, or at least what I heard.
“So, to clarify… the primary issue bothering you is that you chose to say you love himafterfeeling that he had said the most hurtful things to you?”
I nod.
“Why does that bother you the most?”
“Isn’t it obvious? It means I’m sick. I am drawn to toxicity.”
“How’s that?”
“He says the meanest thing he can say, and I respond by declaring love.”
“Let me ask you something. And try to be objective with yourself. Do you believe that Josh meant what he said?”
“Maybe. I don’t think he meant it, but I also don’t trust my judgment of other people’s motives. Whether he meant it or not, I think he was trying to push me away and he knew the most effective way to do it.”
“In other words, you could hear he was in pain and trying to distance himself from someone who cares about him.”
“I guess.”
“And so, it was clear to you, this person who you love was clearly in pain and trying to isolate himself. And your response was…”
“To tell him I love him. I guess that means… it was a loving thing to do, rather than a toxic thing.”
Monica waits before going on.
“So, Lily, how are you doing with him not saying he loves you back?”
“I’m afraid. I’m left wondering why I’m so unlovable.” My voice sounds small, nearly unrecognizable to my ears. It’s the voice ofbefore. “My mother is not loving toward anyone. She doesn’t tell me she loves me. I’m afraid that this is what I am worth. Unrequited love.”
We talked, as we have before, about my mother and how she may not be capable of love for me and how that is not my fault. We spoke about how my value as a person and my continued desire to develop and change are real progress for me. That expressing my love aloud is a testament to my own growth, whether Josh is able to appreciate that love or not.
“Monica, I’m terrified.”
“We all have fears, Lily. Let’s focus on what helps you with them.”
“Well, being in touch with Abbie and Roselyn. And my niece. Saying my prayers during the day, counting my blessings. Working, being productive. Being around my grandmother. She’s like the human equivalent of a weighted blanket. She’s calming.”
“Let’s give you some credit as well—celebrate your wins, you know?” Monica’s favorite thing to wrap up with. I struggle not to roll my eyes. “You’re walking through things, even when you’re afraid. Fear doesn’t have to dominate you, which is a muscle you’ve been developing, does that make sense?”
“It does. I know you’re right—I can walk through things now that I couldn’t before; I keep proving it to myself. I know it intellectually anyway. But it feels fragile.”
“Lily, you’ve made so many big life changes since September—of course, it feels fragile. And that’s life sometimes.”
As we wrap up, I recognize my sadness and exhaustion, but I also acknowledge that I have many things going for me. I share that I know I’m at home at Nona’s in a way I didn’t feel anywhere, most of my life. When Monica and I finished, I walked out to the den to find Nona knitting in her favorite chair. Georgette had gone home.
I walk right over to her and smile. “Can I hug you?”
“Lily Shoshana,” she chastises me with a twinkle in her eye, “I have told you; you don’t have to ask. Come on over and hug me.”
