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“No,” he quickly replied. “I’m saying no person is worth that energy. People are constantly letting others down. They can't disappoint you if you don’t expect anything from them. I reserve my energy for other things.”
“Like?”
“None of your business,” he replied. There it was again—his eyes. He said one thing, but his facial expression showed something else. It was as if he spent all his energy on others his whole life, and they drained him. He didn’t hate people because he didn’t want to drain his energy. No. He didn’t hate people because his battery was already drained. He was a broken-down car left on empty.
I felt it again. The hugging urge.
I stepped toward him. “Alex—”
He shook his head. “No,” he whispered, as if he could hear my thoughts and feel them, too. Something about him made me want to fight with him, but it also made me want to hold him. I wanted to shout at him, and I wanted to fall against his chest and tell him that everything would be okay.
Did he feel that, too? Did he feel…me?
“Don’t,” he pleaded, his voice low and packed with angst.
“Don’t what?”
“I don’t know.” He lowered his head and stared at the floor as his hands flexed in and out of a fist. “Just don’t, Goldie,” he whispered. He picked up his speed and hurried down the staircase to his rightful floor before I could unpack the odd sensation he’d left me with.
I stood still for a moment, staring at the staircase, hoping he’d come back, but he didn’t. I didn’t know if what I felt from his departure was me missing him, but when he left, something within me floated away with his soul. Remnants of my spirit were somehow now entangled within his.
I unlocked my apartment door, a bit thrown off by Alex’s quick exit. Sometimes, it felt like we were playing tennis with one another in our interactions. A fun yet intense battle of back and forth, seeing who would score a point on the scoreboard first. It always ended with such an intense feeling in my gut that I realized there was more to our interactions. I wasn’t sure what was there, but I felt it deep within my spirit.
He was the first person I’d ever been able to stand up to and go toe-to-toe with during our arguments. Why was that? Why didn’t my brain freeze up when it came to me hurling comments back his way like it had with everyone else? Why did he make it so easy for me to stand up for myself when others made it almost impossible?
The feeling I’d felt was so foreign to me. It was nothing like butterflies in my stomach. It was like dragons. Fierce, intense, and powerful. I’d never felt that before with another person. I’d never felt connected to something so strongly. I’d wondered if he felt it, too. He’d left with a part of me still twisted within his soul.
A few minutes later, there was a knock on my door. I hurried over to open it, and when I met the person's stare, I swallowed hard and pushed out a smile. “Josh, hey. How are you? What’s up?”
My crush! Knocking on my door. Lovely. That would shift my thoughts away from Alex and our odd interactions. Josh crafted butterflies within me. Not dragons, just flutters of beautiful, beautiful butterflies.
His grin stretched far. “Hey, sorry to just stop by like this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” I brushed my hands against my sides, not knowing what to do with them. “What’s going on?”
He held up the container in his hand. “I’ve been a bit busy with work lately, and when I’m overwhelmed, I bake. So I had extra cookies. I wanted to see if you’d like any.”
“Oh. Wow. Thanks. Of course I’d love them.”
“I’m good at a few things in life, and baking is one. It helps calm me. If I do say so myself, you’ll be quite impressed with those cookies.”
Oh okay. We can get married any day now, Josh. Do you like Paris in the fall?
I smiled. “That’s very sweet, and I volunteer as tribute for any sweets you wish to discard.”
“It makes sense for a sweet to like sweets,” he said. Was that corny? Yes. Did it somewhat make me swoon? A double yes.
“I also wanted to ask you something else,” he mentioned.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. I wanted to ask you out. On a date.”
My heart skipped a few beats.
I felt like the Steve Carell GIF with him running around shouting, “It’s happening! It’s happening!”
“A date?” I questioned.
“Yeah.”
“With…me?”
He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck. “That was the hope.”
“I’d love that.”
He sighed and pressed his hands to his chest. “Oh, great. I was nervous. Are you free Friday night? I know it’s last minute, but if you say yes, I already booked a dinner reservation.”
