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Kendall
Today’s walk finds me veering off Sunset and exploring side streets lined with trees and trendy shops. In New York City, I walked everywhere and loved it. I loved navigating the crowded sidewalks, catching threads of conversations over the steady rumble of traffic, following the scent of the flower vendors, or the seduction of a luxurious window display. A small blessing, I often told myself, attending college in a place that didn’t require I drive anywhere.
Walking in L.A. is obviously very different, but the destination remains the same—a personal sanctuary built from fresh air and the head-clearing simplicity of putting one foot in front of the other. One of my mom’s favorite phrases floats through my mind. “One step and deep breath at a time.”
I’ve been replaying last weekend over and over in my mind, one minute feeling more honest and in control of my life than I’ve felt in a long time and the next worried I’ve fallen into a false sense of security. There’s nothing wrong with either emotion, I tell myself. Don’t second-guess. Go with the flow.
My cross-trainers continue to eat up the sidewalk, and my mind adds an encouraging little mantra. One step…one deep breath…one step…
The ding of my phone interrupts, and I take it from my back pocket to find the screen lit with a text message from Vaughn.
Hey baby. U up?
I laugh and type out a reply.
A hookup text at ten-thirty in the morning? That’s pretty cheesy.
I’m in Vegas. I’ve lost all track of time. What are you doing?
Walking along Sunset. Checking out the shops.Maybe find a job.
Gonna buy yourself something sexy?
Ha. All I’ve got on me is my phone and ten dollars earmarked for Starbucks. If you consider an iced coffee sexy, then yes, I am.
Yep. Sexy.
I laugh again. You have a strange definition of sexy.
Three dots appear and linger on the screen. His response is taking a little longer this time.
Are you going to hold it firmly in your hand? Put your lips over the tip of the straw and use suction until your mouth fills?
Suddenly the mid-morning sunshine on my face feels a little hotter, and I’m glad I have the sidewalk mostly to myself. A naughty impulse compels me to reply, I’m going to go slow. Make it last as long as possible. Savor every drop until it’s completely drained.
The three little dots appear again, and I’m practically holding my breath to see his response. Was I too smutty? Not smutty enough? I’m new to sexting.
Holy $#!@. I just had a long-distance…iced coffee.
Glad you enjoyed yourself. Pride makes me sassy.
I enjoy YOU. Looking forward to Saturday.
Me too. Have fun in Vegas.
I’d rather have fun with you. Later Kendall.He ends with an iced coffee emoji.
I slip my phone into my pocket and peek into a clothing boutique. The reflection staring back at me catches me off guard. The girl in the glass wears a secret smile.
The Vaughn effect. They ought to create an emoji for that.
But he’s done more than just put a smile on my face. He helped me confront a huge obstacle keeping me in my untenable limbo.
Me.
Mason didn’t push my heart into a holding cell and hide the key. He couldn’t do it even if he was the kind of guy who would want to—which he isn’t—because I’m in charge of my heart. It’s mine to give, and it finally dawned on me that I can give it many times, in many ways. Love’s not a finite thing. I don’t have to retrieve what I’ve given, or give back what I’ve taken, in order to move on. I just have to be ready to give again. There’s freedom in that realization, and I close my eyes to absorb the weightless sensation. I’d hoped to get unstuck this summer and am grateful for the assist.
Who knew the guy hanging in Times Square would become my friend-slash-unknowing therapist? Not this girl. And now he’s poised to become more.
