Page 30 of Delayed Intention
Around midnight, my shift is wrapping up, and I change out of my scrubs in the women’s locker room before I head home. I wish I had another plan for tonight, or a roommate or something. Here I am—single and alone for another major holiday.
Driving home, my mind starts to spiral: will I ever find anyone to share holidays with besides being a third wheel to Roselyn and David? Probably not. By the time I get home, I feel flat, more than depressed. After hesitating briefly, I start a new letter to Josh.
Thanksgiving Night/Black Friday morning, 2024
Dear Josh,
Hi. We just texted tonight, which was nice, so I thought, why not just write to him again?
I think I told you this already, but, in case I didn’t…I feel as though my thoughts areso muchclearer when I’m writing than when I type or talk to someone. I don’t know why that is, but something about writing puts me at ease. The best way to explain it is that, when I write, I get a built-in pause to think, and therefore, my mind isn’t going a thousand miles an hour, in all the different directions. So, I guess, when I write, I’m able to express myself with confidence—if that makes sense. What I feel, when I’m able to put my anxieties and fears to the side, starts to become clearer.
Being the pragmatist you are, you probably think all of that seems silly. I’d bet that you just know your next steps and why you would take them. I envy you :)
Sometimes, I’m afraid that I’ll spend my entire life feeling lost in it. I hope each day that I’ll have less fear than the day before. Lately, I’ve had so many breakthroughs and new experiences that now I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Ugh! My brain. It’s tiresome being me. I suppose that’s why I don’t have so many close friends. I find myself surprised when I have any at all. I mean, I get so tired of listening to my crap—why wouldn’t someone else be tired of me too?
I wonder if you’ve ever felt that way. To me, you seem so self-assured and so adult. I, on the other hand, feel like an imposter. Except when I’m seeing patients. Something about my training kicks in, and I’m a different person. I wish I could be that resolute in the other areas of my life. Sometimes patients are mean—because they are sick or are just not good people—and they can try to push my buttons, but work is the one place I’ve developed thick skin. It’s funny — I can do that at work, but if I sense my mother is having a mean thought toward me, I fly apart into scattering pieces.
Sometimes I wonder—will I ever just feel content? Just be okay as I am. I guess time will tell. Deep down, below the surface of me, there’s a part of me that can admit I want to feel okay, be calm, be at peace. Abbie says I should be happy about the growth I’ve had this fall. It’s been big stuff. But when I compare myself to what I think normal people are like, it feels like I’m learning now what I should have learned decades ago. It’s hard not to be frustrated.
Abbie says comparing myself to others is bullshit. She’s helped me learn to laugh at myself. At all of it. She’s a great friend. I was thinking of asking her to be my plus one at the wedding—I would love it if you could meet her. My dream is to put the two of you in a room together and get some popcorn. Of course, bringing her to the wedding would fuel half my family’s belief that I’m into women, but I’m not sure how much I care what they think anymore.
Hope your Thanksgiving is not too busy. Talk soon.
Your friend,
Lily Shoshana Mendes
P.S. not sure why I signed my whole name, LOL, but I’m not rewriting this whole letter just b/c of that!
L :)
Josh’s Boundaries
Josh, Estes Park, Early December 2024
Lily,
Hello.
Thanks for writing again.
First, I would expect you to know me well enough to know that while I may appear confident, I am constantly second-guessing myself. You know, I’ve always been driven to be perfect. The perfect son for my mom, and the incredible brother/Uncle for Miche and her girls. The best doctor. The guy with the perfectly behaved dog. And you may remember I have always obsessed with having perfect hair. Thankfully, it has not shown any signs of falling out.
The perfect best friend.
The truth is, I may have more confidence going into something than you do, but sometimes after I have done a thing, I will dissect it and worry it was not the best. Not enough. Actually, to me, this is the most difficult part of being a physician. Sometimes, we don’t get it right. Sometimes, there isn’t a perfect solution, only the least terrible path. Those are the things that keep me awake at night—the way forward I can see in hindsight that would have been better—I always think I should’ve known better from the beginning.
Example—I dated this girl once, Rachel. This was a few years ago. I told her from the start that I didn’t want to be in a committed relationship. I knew after about a week that she was not on the same page, but I took the easy way out and told myself that if she was not on the same page, it would be her problem. It was a complete mess. I let it go on for too long, and after a few months, when we broke up, she went after the practice. She wrote tons of incendiary reviews online, blasting our social media sites. We had to hire a PR firm to clean everything up. I was so embarrassed about how that made me look to my colleagues and the staff, not to mention our patients. There is nothing I like less than mixing my personal life with my professional one, and it was all very public.
Michelle and my mom tried to convince me that Rachel’s instability was not my responsibility. But I still, after almost 3 years, replay how I should’ve handled that whole situation differently.
My point is that we all have our insecurities, and our worries. Try not to be too hard on yourself. I think you’re pretty great, just like you are. I like how you just put your truth out there—even when it’s messy, and even when it’s hard for you.
You may have many fears, but you have courage, Lily. I think you are impressive.
Anyway, guess you’re headed to your grandmother’s next week, and I’ll see you around Hanukkah time.
