"I am. I'm in Chicago for a conference, and I had to step out to take your call. You never call, so I figured something bad had happened."
As much as I hate to admit it, she has a point. "No, I'm just … re-prioritizing things. I wanted to check in with you just because."
"Well, that's great that you finally think you have time for me. Turns out, I'm busy. I'll talk to you later."
She's about to hang up; I can tell. I haven't made much progress with making amends and repairing this relationship. "Meri, wait! I hoped we could catch up."
"I'm busy. You have your life, I have mine." After a quick goodbye, she disconnects.
Well, that was terrible. Why can't we be like Josh and his sister? What's Malachi going to have to say about this? Is he going to make me call her again? We don't have a very sisterly relationship. We never have. Not since she dropped out of ballet class when I was six and she was eight. After that, our lives moved down two totally different paths.
And she hated—hates—me because I picked ballet. Because I excelled at it. I think she wanted to do it too, but she had two left feet. I wasn't the only one who heard the teacher ask how it was possible that we were even related. Ballet is the only thing I've ever been better at than her. Not grades, not friends, not boys, not life.
There's no way she can be holding that against me. Not after all these years.
I redial my sister. "Is this because of what Miss Kristi said all those years ago in ballet class? Is that why you hate me?"
"No. And I told you, I'm at a conference."
Oh shit. I forgot. I drop my voice to a whisper, like that really matters. She's on her cell phone. Unless she's got me on speaker, my volume isn't the problem.
"Please, Meri, I just want an answer."
"Of course you do. Because it's always all about you. Like your ballet class and your shoes and your costumes and your lessons. And let's not forget your eating disorder. Your anorexia needs its own place at our dinner table. I mean, not really, because we all know neither of you eat. My entire life was about what worked foryou. WhatLeslieneeded. It was never about me."
Her words sting. Mostly because they're probably true.
I go on the defensive. "It's not like I decided it would be cool to hate myself so much that I thought that would be the best thing. You know, to try to deprive myself of fuel and nutrients, just so I couldmaybelook the way they wanted me to look, even though that was never gonna happen. I was always going to be short and muscular. I was always gonna have boobs and the badonkadonk in the back. I was always going to be the wrong color." I was always gonna hate myself. "Ballet, the thing I loved more than anything, made me hate the person I was. I think it took as much from me as it gave me. And I'm not sure that sacrifice was worth it."
There's silence on the line.
Just like I can't make myself be better than my best, I can't make Meri accept my apology. I can't make her accept me. "I won't keep you from your conference and your life. I just wanted to see if I could have a sister one of these days."
I disconnect.
Somehow, I don't feel any better. Aren't I supposed to feel better? But what I said was true. All those things I sacrificed were for something that made me hate who I was. For as much as ballet gave me, it exacted a high toll. The desire to be the best … whatever it takes … was too high a price to pay.
Some things aren't worth it.
But some things are. Like Josh.
And then I realize I'm doing it again. I'm pouring everything I have into this production without leaving anything for me. For those I … love. And I do love him. I love his smile and how he conducts music with his eyebrows. I love his delicate touch and his sensitive perception. I love how he smells when my head is buried in his chest. I love that he cares about the people around him. I love watching his fingers glide over the piano keys, creating the most beautiful music. I love how his mouth feels on mine. But mostly, I love that he understands me and doesn't judge me.
I stand up, shocked by this revelation. As an adult, I've never been in love. I wasn't capable of it. I had to start loving who I was before I could love another.
Almost as shocking as the revelation about my feelings for Josh are my feelings for myself. I don't think I'm all the way cured or healed or whole or whatever, but in this moment, Iaccept.
I accept me and all the things that come with it, good and bad. I accept that my best wasn'tthebest, and that it's okay.
I head toward the music room, where I'm sure to find him. I need to tell Josh. I need to take the time and the energy and the mental space to give him what he needs.
That thought halts me in my tracks. I don't know what he wants. Or needs. Everything's been … about me.
My sister is right. I'm selfish. I can't even see how my actions hurt because I take and I take and I take. I'm not doing it to be mean or petty. It's just that my well of need was bottomless, so I relied on others to fill it up. All because I wasn't strong enough to fill it myself.
Fill your own well.
Nowthatwould make a good T-shirt.
