Page 101

Just got back to my apartment

I head into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. My hands are shaking slightly, and I realize I’m nervous because I’m finally doing something that excites me. I know nothing is set in stone yet, but I pull out my laptop and type “video editor jobs Seattle” into the search bar and hit enter just to see. The results load, and I scroll through them slowly. There are listings for production companies, tech startups, and marketing agencies. Some are full-time, some are contract work. Some require on-site presence, others are hybrid or remote. I click on a few, reading through the descriptions, trying to imagine myself in those roles.

Even though I’ve never been, it’s not hard to picture living in the same city as Evan. Waking up next to him every morning. Building a routine. Drinking coffee in the kitchen and cooking dinner at night, then falling asleep wrapped around each other without a flight home counting down in the background. It’s so domestic, but after twenty-six years of fighting for somewhere to belong, I think I’m more than ready for it.

I open a new tab and search for Seattle neighborhoods. I don’t know the city well, but I start reading about different areas as I click through photos of tree-lined streets and coffee shops and views of the water. It looks beautiful. It looks like the kind of place where I could start over with the man I love. We haven’t talked about whether we’d live together or not, but right now, all I want to do is sink into the dream and let myself believe it’ll work out.

But first things first, I need to update my resume and book a flight once he confirms dates.

Evan:

Glad you made it safely. Thinking about you.

I stare at the message, and warmth spreads through my chest.

Me:

Haven’t stopped thinking about you.

Evan:

I’m really proud of you. I know we still have a lot to talk about, but I am proud. We’ll figure it out

Me:

Yes we will. I refuse to give up on us

Evan:

You don’t have to do it alone anymore. I’m here.

Me:

I like the sound of that.

Evan:

Me too. Get some rest, okay? We'll talk tomorrow.

Me:

Okay. Goodnight, Evan.

Evan:

Goodnight, Marcus. I love you.

I stare at those three words, and my throat tightens. He loves me. He really loves me, and I get to love him back. I get to build a life with him. I get to try. I haven’t felt hope like this in a year, since Evan agreed to come to Chicago a day early for Christmas.

Me:

I love you too.

I shut my laptop and head to my room. The sheets are clean and I climb into them, pull out my phone, and read his last message one more time. Goodnight, Marcus. I love you.

The room is dark and quiet, but it doesn't feel empty the way it used to. For the first time in a long time, the last thing on my mind before I fall asleep isn't dread.

It’s Seattle. It’s Evan.