Page 50 of I Will Always Love You (Maybe)

“But something kind of crazy happened… I think I met a friend?” Colby’s voice continues, and I hear that tone in hers, the one I’ve become familiar with over the last month, the one that has the trace bit of hope to it. “Well, maybe not friend since I basically screamed at her right in the middle of where she was working. But a good person. She came over here that night and helped me with Kona, and when she left, I gave her a hug.”

A short chuckle escapes my mouth. My God. That day is buried into my mind, and I’ll never forget it. It feels like a thousand years ago and yet I see everything. The hooded sweatshirt she was wearing, the way she stomped up to the desk so many times, the way that I thought she was a bit of an overzealous pet owner, until I understood that she was equating Kona’s procedure with the one that claimed her wife. And then… Kona. I get it. Kona is the Lucky Charms of my adulthood. Even though I always thought I was never responsible enough to be a dog owner, I know that at its core, I never wanted to be hurt the way I was by losing Lucky Charms.

I miss Kona. I miss Colby.

I go back to listening.

“At your funeral, so many people hugged me, touched me, and I just couldn’t. I equated the hugs with the loss, and I never wanted to hug anyone again. And I haven’t. Not once. But then I hugged Josie, and I don’t know… It felt nice. Different somehow. Can there be hope attached to a hug? Is that too new age, and all ‘the universe is speaking to you’ or whatever crap that you used to talk about? You know, when I’d nod and smile, and pretend I understood what reading auras and seven chakras meant? And later that night we had a few text message exchanges… and well… I think you’d really like her.”

My heart swells. From day one, Colby was telling her dead wife about me. I was worthy of being talked about with Amelia.

I continue listening.

For hours and hours, until my eyes are groggy with fatigue, until I’ve paced my apartment from room to room, until I’ve gone from the couch, to the bed, to the table and back again. I listen to Colby tell Amelia all about me, about her struggling feelings, of being terrified to open herself up. And then tears fall down my face when she tells Amelia goodbye. I can hear it in Colby’s voice. The way she cracks but is also setting herself free. There’s this part of me, the friend part that is so proud of Colby that she fought through her fears to let go, and there’s this other part of me that is so honored, so warm, so filled inside my soul that she let her wife go not only for herself, but for me.

I am worthy. I am enough.

It’s nearly midnight by the time I finish the journal entries, and I dash to pull up the podcast app and click on the show. I stare at the screen, hitting refresh over and over until it finally pops up. And when it does, everything in me freezes.

I tap play.

THIRTY-THREE

COLBY

The headphones seem heavier today somehow. Kona is at my side, protecting me, keeping me strong. I love my girl, and am so glad she is by my side, but even if she weren’t, I know this is what I have to do. This right here will affect my show as well as my life. But it is long overdue.

“Hey, everyone. Welcome to the Love ’Em or Leave ’Em podcast. I wanted to record a special show today, one that should have been recorded a while ago. Honestly, maybe even from the beginning. This show will be unedited, unscripted, and completely from the heart. Please feel free to skip forward through the heavy sighs and deep breaths.”

I take a shaky sip of water and clear my throat.

“The question today comes from Colby Jackson from Spring Harbors, Minnesota. ‘Dear Ruby, for years, I’ve been carrying on what some may call a double life. There was never any ill will intended, but there are people who got hurt in the process. People that I care about so deeply, good people, people who don’t deserve this. And there are also others that I don’t know personally but may feel betrayed. What should I do?’”

I breathe through the turning in my stomach. “Well, friends, I am Colby Jackson. Yes, you heard that right. My name is Colby Jackson, not Ruby Reanne. For those of you who don’t think this is a big deal, that this is just a name change, this goes much deeper than that.”

My hands are trembling. I’ve just done what I’ve been terrified to do all of these years—shown my real identity. I’ve been hiding behind these headphones, double monitor, and microphone for years while running from the pain of loss.

I twist my hands in my lap and continue.

“I was married for seven incredible years to my wife, Amelia. Six years ago, Amelia died suddenly, and it shattered my world. The pain was so sudden, so crushing, so deeply devastating, and I didn’t know how to channel it. So, I started this podcast as a way to keep her memory alive. The personality you hear on this show is not mine. Amelia was lively, and fun, and funny. Colby is introverted, quiet, and honestly sometimes kind of boring.”

The room isn’t hot and yet sweat needles at the back of my neck. I pick up a notebook and fan my face.

“The stories I’ve told about Amelia are not true. And the ones that were true were so heavily anecdotal and stretched for truth that they barely count. I’d read these messages from you all, think of how Amelia would respond to them if she were here, and then I recorded what I thought would be her answers. In my mind, I justified that it was for your entertainment, and that I tell you all that I’m not a therapist, but deep down, I know damn well this was all for me. To numb myself. It became a sort of addiction to step into this fantasy space. I took you all, unknowing victims, along for the ride.”

Kona shuffles at my feet and I rub behind her ears until my heartbeat slows.

“For those of you who have put your trust into me, to help navigate your relationships, I am so sorry. I have hurt you and broken your trust, and I truly am sorry.”

My lips tremble and I take a deep breath.

“A while ago, I met a woman. An incredible woman. The type of woman that people hope to exist, pretend exists, but she’s so pure and good that you don’t actually think she’s real. She’s fearless, fun, and opened me up in a way that I didn’t think possible. This woman gave me hope. Actual hope. After all these years of feeling utterly hopeless, she made me think that maybe there is an alternative universe out there, that maybe my dreams didn’t die along with Amelia. And in this process, I have lied to and hurt her as well.”

This feels both so terrible and terrifying, and also the most freeing thing I’ve ever done. I am officially diving into the ice-cold waters of the deep end and hoping that I will float to the top. Who knows what will happen after this, but one thing is for sure: I will get to live authentically, and on my own terms, the way I tout about in every episode. And this time, it’s for me. I am authentically living for Colby Jackson—dog mom, widow, friend, human. Not Ruby Reanne.

“So, friends, as of right now, this is the final episode of the Love ’Em or Leave ’Em podcast, at least as hosted by Ruby Reanne and in the format that we’ve come to know over the years. I need to take some time and reassess; I need to hear from you, my incredible listeners, address your concerns, and see if this is something that you still want to listen to. If I come back, I will come back as me—the real Colby, the authentic one, who is struggling through my own heartache while apologizing for the pain I’ve caused to my loved ones. I am no longer interested in living a lie or living in the past. I am ready to live, truthfully, in reality.”

I push through the forming tears and sigh.