“Oh, he is. He’s always been miserable. Miserable excuse for a man.”
This makes me laugh. Ah, Mom. We don’t have a perfectrelationship, but when things get really tough, I can always count on her to be in my corner. Always. Mom releases my hand. “You know, I know you’re going solo for February or for however long you want. But eventually, I know that you’ll find someone meant for you.”
I think of Jack and wonder if I already have. “I actually met someone, Mom. I broke my #GoSolo vow.” The confession comes out in a torrent. “And he’s got this big event tonight, and I should be there, but now I think I’ve scared him off. And I made a promise to Arial, to my readers…”
“Why not just write about it?” Mom asks, simply. “Why not just admit the struggle you’re going through? Just admit that you broke your vow. Level with your readers. Once you do that, you can show up for Jack tonight, with a free conscience. Just admit what’s going on.”
“That’ll make me the nail, though.”
“We should all be the nail sometimes,” she says, with a dismissive wave of her hand. “That’s the only way anything ever gets built.”
I’ve got a real secret confession to make.… I haven’t been entirely honest about going solo.I start typing, the words flying off my keyboard. I feel nervous energy in my fingers as I type. I’m finally coming clean to all the Soloists. I have no idea how they’re going to take it, but I at least have to try to level with them.
I met someone. Actually, I just reconnected with an old friend, a wonderful friend, someone I used to know in kindergarten. I told him I vowed to go solo,and he told me he’d wait. But he’s got a big-deal awards thing for work tonight, and I don’t think it’s right for me to leave him alone because I’ve set an arbitrary time to work on myself. Solo February has been amazing, and I’m so, so glad it’s helped so many of you. It’s helped me, too. Helped me to take care of myself a little more. To make smarter decisions (about who I date and what I eat), and to just take care of myself a little bit better than I have been.
But the real joy of it was meeting all of you. You’ve been so wonderful, so supportive.
So, I’m leaving the Solo February challenge a little early. I know a few of you might be upset by this, but hear me out. Sometimes, the universe works in surprising ways. Sometimes, when you stop looking, you just might find the perfect match.
It’s not something I ever in a million years imagined would happen. But it did.
And I owe it to myself to see where this will lead.
Wish me the best.
I send the article to Arial before I can change my mind, even though I know she probably won’t even read it until Sunday. Then I call Jack.
“Hey, I don’t know if it’s too late, but I’d love to be your plus-one,” I tell his voicemail. “I want to be there for you on this really important night. I think… I think…”
I want to say: I’m falling in love with you, too. But I pause too long, and the voicemail beeps. “If you’re happy with your message, press one…”
Crap. I delete my message. I try again.
“Hey, uh, I want to be your plus-one tonight. I’ve decided—”
Ack, delete that.
“Yo! I wanna go to the Oscars of Baking!”
Delete.
“Hey! Race you to the Oscars of Baking?”
Delete again. Delete all.
Ugh.
Then I write and delete about a dozen texts. I’m running out of time. I need to just decide on one.
Hey. I quit the #GoSolo challenge and want to be your plus-one tonight. If you’ll have me!
I get an auto response from Jack’s phone:I’m driving right now and unable to answer my texts. I’ll get back to you when it’s safe!
I glance at my watch. He’s on his way to the awards already. It’s nearly time!
My phone rings, and I perk up, hoping it’s Jack. Instead, it’s Arial.
“Hey, Sora? I got your article?” Her voice sounds a little tense. A little less upbeat. She doesn’t like the article. “And uh, I don’t know how this is going to go? Are you really ending Solo February early?”
