Page 20 of Yours, For Good

While on the plane back home, I caught myself daydreaming of future coffee dates. Wait, no, not dates— rather, yes, dates, but platonic ones. It had pushed me, but not that far.

I reached the end of the pool, and I flipped, turned, and seamlessly started a new lap. Music continued to play, this time telling me about discovering planets at the edge of the known universe.

Knowing she had enjoyed our time together didn't make it easier. In her email she seemed as surprised as I had been that we had so much in common. I'd gone to San Francisco in ignorance of her love for sci-fi, or how easily it would be to talk to her about life in general. Now I wanted to repeat it.

Yet a twinge of guilt unfolded in my chest, that I knew this because she revealed her thoughts about me, to me, without knowing.

That emotion hid behind a cinder of hope. The ember turned red when I looked at it, my attention giving it oxygen to burn. The truth was I wanted her to reach out. Thinking of chatting with her wasn't only me trying to be good and offering her something. No, it was about my own enjoyment, too.

Fuck, I would be happy to be her actual friend.

It was rare. I had met Max when I was a pre-teen and it was easy to become friends back then. He had introduced me to Gabe and Jake and, through him, it had been easy to make friends with them, too. Gabe's parents were so warm and inviting they had seamlessly welcomed me into their family. But aside from those miracles, I didn't get close to people. It had been ages since I had been this interested. For the longest time, I had been happy and satisfied with my chosen family. I didn't need more. Curiosity about Nora did not fit that.

It was dangerous, too. I had made the choice to hide a pretty important part of who I was to her, from her. Between that and the John Grier program itself, there was no way what that ember waited for could happen.

But I spent a lot of time alone and she did, too. After having coffee with her, I was somehow much more acutely aware of the fact.

I reached the end of the pool again, and I turned around in another fluid motion. I kept going. In her email, Nora had said she didn't know what we could text about, and I got it. We didn't have anything— that she knew about— to keep us chatting. What was I supposed to do about that?

Nothing. I shouldn't push. Regardless of what I wanted, I had to give her as much freedom as I could within my rules and limitations. If she didn't text, I would accept it and wait.

The future was wide open. Julia would still be in San Francisco for the incubator for a few more months, giving me other opportunities. I still had a few months to extend my hand, and see if Nora would take it.

By the time I was done swimming, I welcomed the exhaustion. I didn't think I would have been able to sleep otherwise.

Chapter 10

Date: October 24

To: Mr. Smith

From: Eleanora

Subject: Very little time

Dear Mr. B.,

I've attached the latest draft + plan. As you can see from these documents, I'm extremely busy with project prep. We're building to one of the first big presentations and it's a lot of work! Please understand if I don't write as often for a little bit.

All I'm going to argue in my favor is that it's only been three weeks since my last letter, and you originally wanted only one summary email a month! If you're upset that I haven't written much then it might be time we acknowledged that I've been spoiling you, sir.

Sure, it's also that I've been busier of late, as I've been body-doubling with Sally to get this presentation done, and I come home too tired to write emails. In that regard, I hope you're happy for me that I continue to get closer to Sally. You know that I had no one in my personal circle and that's a big part why I started writing to you like this in the first place. I think I need to continue working on making friends, and learn what it's like to have people get close to me.

Anyway, I can't believe it's the end of October! I'm going to Sally and Julia's for a Halloween party at the end of the week— something small— just for respite. I hope their idea of "small" is the same as mine. I don't like large gatherings; it's easier to lasso myself to someone in a small group than a large one. Having no one to talk to is a feeling I hate. You know how I crave closeness, but going around the crowd with big, imploring eyes, feeling like I'm begging for someone to slow down enough to notice me and make fast friends with me— it's like walking around undressed.

It sucks, because things seemed easier in college and grad school. There's just something about this program that is making me confront who I was and who I want to be. I like to think no one knows I feel this way inside, as the happy, excited part of me takes over. Still, sometimes I wonder if that happiness has become a wall that keeps me alone, when people think I am okay and I don't look like I need anything.

Because how are people supposed to know I need closeness, if I pretend I don't? I have so many rules about the kind of relationships I want and what I'm willing to do or risk that I'm… lost.

What a troubling thought!

I have to say, there's something about writing to you that makes me confess more than I planned to. Why is that, Mr. B.? My best guess is that, even though what I truly want is to talk about this with someone who will look me in the eye and give me a thoughtful reply, you're the closest I have at this time.

I'll write to you in a couple of weeks. Wish me luck!

Nora

Javier