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Kyle stares at me. His gaze scrutinizing. I realize something then. I can’t fix this with him right now. Just like with my dad the other night. No conversation in a coffee shop is going to bridge the enormous gap between Kyle and me. There’s no simple conversation to heal years of hurt feelings, or time to give him all the reasons why I want to be with Lucy when I can’t even explain it to myself.
I’ll just have to prove it to him.
Lucy
Tuesday, February 1, 8:12 a.m.
From PlainJane2 to GothamGuardian5:
Hello, Man Mentor. I know we’ve been keeping things light on here, but I need to vent, and I think you might be the perfect person for it.
I’m sure you’ve gathered from our conversations that I’ve been struggling with growing feelings for someone, and the other day, I made those feelings known. I kissed him. We were at work, and it had been a particularly hard shift. I’m a nurse, I know I didn’t say that in my profile, but that’s because I didn’t want weirdos asking me about a strange rash they developed. Trust me, it happens more than you think. *shudders*
He kissed me back but then the next day, he told me it was a mistake. Which, you know, sucks. I feel so stupid. Do guys kiss girls back that they don’t have feelings for?
From GothamGuardian5 to PlainJane2:
I’m sorry that happened to you. I’ve unfortunately known guys who do kiss women they don’t have feelings for. But maybe that’s not what’s happening here. For what it’s worth, that guy sounds like an idiot.
From PlainJane2 to GothamGuardian5:
Don’t take this for more than just one friend asking another, but ... do you want to meet up sometime? Maybe get some coffee? I live in Aspen Lake.
I DON’T KNOW WHAT COMPELLED me to ask GothamGuardian5 to meet up. I blame Graham and all this turmoil I’ve been feeling since talking to him two days ago at the pool. I haven’t been able to think about much else since. It’s clouding my brain, making me incapable of making sound decisions. And now I’m driving to a coffee shop to meet up with a stranger. One I met because my stupid best friend made me an online dating profile.
I can’t believe how bold I was to ask him to meet me. But he didn’t seem taken aback by it. He readily agreed, the message coming back almost instantly. That was only an hour ago.
I just need someone to talk to, and it can’t be Morgan. I’ve already talked her ear off about it anyway. She’s probably sick of me. I could talk to the other nurses at work, the ones I’m friends with, but then they’d know. Even if I tried to be vague, they’d figure it out. Both Pam and Joelle have made comments alluding to the fact that they think more is happening between Graham and me.
The sad part is, the person I want to turn to is Graham. I want him to hold me and tell me it will be okay. Which is such a strange feeling—wanting to go to the person who caused the pain. But he’s become such a big part of my life. Or, at least he was. Not anymore.
Now I’ve got to figure out how to navigate things with him. How I’m going to work with him, how I’m going to not give in and tell him we can go back to being friends like I’ve wondered if we should just do. This is what I’m hoping to talk to GothamGuardian5 about.
I pull into the parking lot of Brew Haven, a quaint little coffee shop near downtown, where I asked my online friend to meet me.
It will be interesting to put a face to this person I’ve been talking to for over a month. It might also be weird. I’ve never taken the time to think about what he might look like. I suppose I’ve had some sort of picture in my head, but I can’t really describe what that is. He’s just GothamGuardian5. Is it strange we don’t know what the other person looks like?
This poses another question: How will I know it’s him? We didn’t set anything up, I didn’t tell him what I’m wearing, and he didn’t say he’d be carrying a flower or anything.
I take a parking spot close to the entrance, but as I get out, I see what I think is Graham’s car just two spots down from me, and my heart picks up speed. I quickly duck back into my car, shutting the door before sliding down in my seat, just enough so I can still look over my steering wheel to see if I can spot Graham inside, to see if he’s really in the coffee shop.
Sure enough, I spy him through the window, sitting at a booth, a cup of something in front of him. Well, crap. I can’t go in there now. Not with Graham inside.
“Seriously?” I say out loud to no one. Why is he here right now?
I pull my phone out of my purse and send a quick message to GothamGuardian5, asking him for a rain check. Yes, I could meet him somewhere else, but seeing Graham here is making me second-guess everything. I think I need to go home and continue crying on my couch like I was doing before leaving to meet my Man Mentor. I can rethink meeting up with my online friend later, when my brain isn’t so foggy.
Once I make it home, I put my pajamas back on and flop back on my couch.
Let the crying commence.
It doesn’t happen, though. Instead, I stare at the ceiling and wonder how long it’s going to take me to get over all this. Especially if I keep running into Graham like I just did.
I’ve never felt heartbreak like this before—how long will it take for me to feel better? To feel like myself again? It almost seems impossible right now, like it will never happen.
I hear a knock at my door and, fearing that it’s Morgan and Ryan coming over to try and cheer me up, I ignore it. I don’t want to be cheered up right now. I don’t need stupid comments from Ryan and placating words from Morgan.
The person knocks again. If it is Morgan, she won’t let my ignoring her stop her. She’ll just keep knocking.
