Page 32 of Love and Other Mental Health Concerns
“I’m sorry about Isabel interrupting our conversation, I had no idea that she was going to be working here, but apparently she found out I was here during orientation. She just wanted to say hello so that I wasn’t caught off guard in front of a patient or administration if we ran into each other.”
“Because you guys dated. That’s what would make it awkward.” I clarify for him.
“Well, I wouldn’t have called it dating. We hooked up a couple times when I worked in Fargo, about ten months ago. Nothing even remotely serious, we have never even had a meal together.” He keeps his eyes trained to mine; I know he’s just being honest, but this uncomfortable jealous inclination is sitting deep inside my gut.
“Right.” It is hitting me just how different our romantic worlds are. His, being carefree and fun, probably the contrast he has needed from the pain that was his family life. Mine, non-existent because of the pain that emanated from the relationships that were supposed to represent love. Not to mention, the anxiety that won’t let me cope like the typical 20-something and get lost in another person for a few hours of distraction. I knew this was the case, I shouldn’t be surprised, yet here I sit.
“It’s Okay Nick, it really isn’t my business.”
“That’s the thing Marcy, I want it to be your business, I like you and I liked where the direction of our conversation was going before we were interrupted.” He seems genuine, worried even, but I can’t do it. The doubt in my mind now unrelenting, laying fresh bricks on the wall around my heart.
“Nick, I believe you, but I think ultimately, we want different things. You want fun and casual, and I think that’s great. I think you should be living the life you want and doing what feels true to you. I will admit, I was considering also having some casual fun with you, but I don’t think I can do it. It’s notme, it’s never been me. The type of baggage I carry won’t allow me to enjoy that arrangement.” He stares at me, staying quiet, looking like I punched him firmly in the stomach. “I’m glad Isabel is here; you guys can have some fun. We can be friendly until you leave, it doesn’t need to be a big deal, we just need to work together.” I release my breath, almost believing myself.
He waits a moment. “So, since I am only Interested in one-night stands, nothing that would involve emotions, or god-forbid, love, we aren’t a fit?” His jaw tenses, and I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my face. I struggle to identify the tone in his voice, something like confusion. Maybe hurt?
“Correct.” I don’t waiver, but I also can’t bring myself to look back at him.
“Sounds like you have it all figured out then, Marcy. You really nailed me.” He finally looks away from me, wringing his hands. I feel guilty hurting him but know this is for the best. He has another bed to fall into after all, he will be fine.
“Great, then I will keep you posted on my community outreach, let you know how those discussions go. Enjoy your lunch.” I realize then he isn’t holding any lunch, but it’s time for me to go. “I’ll email you my updates.”
He says nothing as I walk away, just staring at his hands and feet against the sunny pavement.This is for the best; I repeat over and over in my head. I don’t have the capacity for what he can offer, I remind myself. My anxieties are placated for the moment, relieved to have a threat to my stability eliminated. That familiar and comfortable aloneness sinking back in.
My heart only aching.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Marcy
It’s been a few weeks since my introduction to Isabel and my subsequent decision to keep things with Nick strictly professional. He has respected the ask, and we have only communicated via email since that interaction. In fact, I haven’t even seen him around the hospital, or in town; not even in a passing morning run, at all.
I have kept myself busy, cramming as many hours in at work as I can and then collapsing into bed at night. The time committed to building these community connections to improve our mental health and social service supports is paying off. The college jumped at the opportunity to establish a relationship, and the volunteer coordinator at the senior center is thrilled. I have kept Nick and Keith informed of the developments, and the details that are being hammered out. Nick writes back short, yet encouraging, responses, but all semblance of even a friendship has disappeared.
I miss Nick, which feels ridiculous given how little time I really spent with him. That ease in which we talk and laugh, and the warmth that radiates out of him is addicting. Being in his orbit offered me a sense of belonging that I had never felt so quickly with a person. With some space from him, I was able separate that my anxiety was related to the fear of getting hurt and not being able to recover. My anxiety is not linked to Nickpersonally, his natural optimism and easy-going nature offering more of a balm to my nervous system, or a distraction at least.
I replay the moment he caught me on the bridge over and over, against my will. He felt so strong and warm, and I didn’t even care that he was sweating on me. He probably could have spit on me during that interaction and I would have asked for more. And his chest and arms wrapped around me…
“It’s kind of like he became a ghost since you guys decided you weren’t going to be lovers.” Thankfully, Annie’s comment pulls me out of my daydream, as we gather in the conference room for another monthly employee meeting.
“Please don’t say ‘lovers’ to me, Annie.”
“Who aren’t lovers?” Lauren chimes in, taking a seat on my other side.
“It’s nothing,” I insist, “Don’t worry about it.
“What’s nothing? You and that hot consultant?” Lauren grins at me. “Do you think I was born yesterday? I watched you two make eyes at each other for weeks. Watched him wander aimlessly around this hospital trying to look important, but mainly just trying to run into you. Now, he doesn’t leave his office and mopes in his truck.”
“Well, aren’t you observant and imaginative.” I mutter back to her.
“No drama here girl, just facts.” She pops a nicotine gum into her mouth. Her perfect cat eye make-up highlighting the gleam in her eye as she teases me.
“I’m sure he found someone else to spend time with, I wouldn’t be concerned. He’s a practiced rake.”
“You need to stop watchingBridgerton, Marcy, no one says ‘rake’ in this century.” Annie’s response makes me laugh, because…guilty. “Besides, he has kept to himself. He never even hooked up with Isabel, she said he turned her down and I think she found a paramedic to keep her company.”
“It’s always the paramedics.” Lauren chimes in with a mischievous little grin.
“No gossip on your grapevine or from Ted?” I ask Annie, a bit surprised.
