Page 48 of I Will Always Love You (Maybe)

She talks about Amelia in every single one.

This is not jealousy. This is me on the sidelines, feeling every sense of abandonment I felt since I was twelve years old. This is me, feeling invisible and not worthy. But now I know that I am worthy. I know in my heart that I deserve more.

And so, even though I can feel the heaviness in my heart, even though my eyes are dried and aching from crying, even though I wish it could be different, I’ve made my decision. I need to talk to Colby.

And let her know that we are done.

THIRTY-ONE

COLBY

By week two without Josie, I am even more miserable than the day she left. Which I didn’t even think was possible. The day that Josie drove off my driveway, I don’t even know how long I sat on the ground, sobbing into my hands. It was only Kona’s barking from inside the house that dragged me up from my knees and back inside.

I fucked up. I really fucked up. And I might be considered one of the top ten relationship experts in America according to whomever the hell does these podcast surveys, but I don’t have any clue how to fix this. I keep pretending that I’m a listener who wrote in, and what I would say to them, but no matter how hard I try, I can’t formulate any new “Ruby” thoughts.

As I brew my second water kettle of the day, for the millionth tea of the week I’m consuming, I stare out the window at the sunshine and try to bring some in to lift my funk. But I know that even buckets of vitamin D won’t erase the monstrosity inside my heart. This pain is raw, and deep, and real, and I don’t know what to do with it. I’m trying to respect Josie’s wishes, since she clearly doesn’t want to talk to me. I’m trying not to call her every second of the day, but I really, really thought that we’d have talked by now. And the fact that we haven’t is making this hole in my heart gape wider by the second.

I slide open the patio door and take a seat on the swinging bench as Kona runs around the yard. I’m not sure if her leg was still bothering her, or she was missing Josie as much as me, but it took until yesterday for Kona to seem like she was fully back into the swing of things.

Billows of steam rise from the mug. I dunk the tea bag as I watch Kona terrorize a squirrel that’s run up a tree. I’m breathing in so hard, trying to fill my lungs with cleansing breaths, but it’s useless.

With every moment that Josie’s gone, I think maybe my life will fall back into the routine I had before Josie entered my world. That somehow, this post-breakup moment will prove that I was in a haze, and not centered in reality, and maybe I misconstrued my feelings after Amelia. But I didn’t. I’m not in a haze. Josie is my new reality. And I’m not ready for us to be done.

And yes, this situation is a little reminiscent of losing Amelia, and I can’t pretend that the parallels don’t exist. Sure, I’ve only known Josie for a short time, and I was with Amelia for years. And of course, Josie hasn’t died, and we weren’t married. But Josie represented a future, one that I thought I’d never have again, and having that hope stripped away from me, because of something I did, is almost too much to bear. Everything in me feels empty. Vacant. And it’s not the same, it will never be the same, but it feels so similar to the fog I was in after Amelia died. I’m wandering around the house, washing dishes that I didn’t use, sitting in front of the TV but not seeing what’s on it, pulling out rows and rows of stitches from my blanket that I crocheted in the wrong pattern and didn’t realize.

The heated tea slides down my throat, and I push my legs into the ground to swing the bench. The squeak of the chains, Kona’s barking, and the faint sounds of the highway miles away are the only sounds around us. Plenty of empty space for me to think. Which I really don’t want to do anymore.

“Ready to go inside, girl?” I ask Kona, who blatantly ignores me. I think she’s pissed at me, too.

Ugh.

I didn’t mean to hurt Josie, of course. But the silence has allowed me to do some terrible self-reflection this last week, and face some harsh truths. I think I was trying to protect myself. And part of that is okay. Part. I knowingly kept this persona a secret, just in case. Everything with Amelia blind-sided me so hard that I was left spinning. And I didn’t want to be left spinning with Josie.

But what wasn’t okay was building this relationship with Josie, having her trust me enough to open up the deepest part of herself, all the while knowing that I was holding back.

“Come on, girl,” I say, pushing myself from the swinging bench. “Let’s get a treat.”

Kona finally pays attention to me at that five-letter word and follows me inside.

Once I give her a chunk of cheese, I cross the house and step into the recording booth. It has now been six weeks without a full, real episode—ever since Josie stepped into my life and changed everything. My mini-episodes and encore episodes are the only thing that have kept me afloat. But she’s not here, and I am, and unless I really don’t want this job anymore, I need to record.

I slide the headphones onto my ears and take a breath. “Welcome to the Love ’Em or Leave ’Em podcast, I’m your host, Ruby—” My voice cracks and I drop my head into my hands. I can’t do this. I absolutely cannot do this. The woman I care about left me in the infancy of our relationship because of my deception on this show. I can’t go back to my job, at least the way that I had it before.

My whole house feels suffocating. Even though we were just outside, I grab the leash and whistle. “Come on, girl. Wanna go for a walk?” My body may not feel like it, but I add the spring to my voice that makes Kona wag her puffy tail and dart towards me.

The temperature is nearly sixty-two today, which is almost my all-time favorite weather. Back in Florida, I would’ve had a sweatshirt on. Today, I tie my flannel around my waist just in case, but am pretty confident my T-shirt will be just fine once I get moving.

The smells of pine and cedar waft to my nose, and I suck in such a large breath that I start coughing. The earth is wet under my feet, the leaves are fully in bloom, rejuvenation and the promise of more greenery lingers in the air. I love this property. The space has always provided me with the comfort I need, the silence that somehow made me feel whole.

The forest bathes me in lush greens and browns. I follow the path down towards the creek, the same path that Josie loved walking, and pray that it gives me the clarity I need to move forward. I understand more than anyone how Josie was able to reconnect with nature, and it gave her the strength to release so many of the demons from her past.

And there is no doubt that keeping my identity hidden, that lying to her about the show, brought up the terrible memories of how her father lied and deceived Josie and her family. I want to reach out to her, tell her that I understand the hurt and anger, and apologize again, but I know that my words will fall flat.

Kona is wildly sniffing a trail and even though it’s Dog Ownership 101 to not let her lead, I do. She drags me through the woods, searching just like me, but where she’s following a scent searching for the animal, I’m trying to follow a life path, searching for answers.

What am I going to do? Not just Josie, but everything. My life. My career. Myself. What am I going to do? And even deeper than what, who? Who am I? Do I really know? Maybe everything has led me to this moment, to the point where the universe is making me rediscover myself.

For so long, I was Amelia’s wife. That was my identity. And then I was the grieving widow. But now… who? Who is Colby Jackson, and what is the imprint that I want to leave on the world? Is it really about relationships? Entertainment? Something totally different?