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Ivy:Miss me? What about Adonis?
Ivy and her nicknames. I have to chuckle, but it makes me miss her even more. I’m still pondering what to tell her when she texts again.
Ivy:I’m getting a vibe. Spill.
Me:Maybe I’m not right for him...
Ivy:Girl, you’re killing me, but I can’t call or move or Dave will wake up. SPILL.
To facilitate faster thumbs and more efficient eating of popcorn, I sit up and lean my pillow against the wall, stretching my legs out on my twin bed as I unfold my day and week to Ivy in one big, long text—how Alec was late on Monday, his irritation at my attending my meeting today, his frustration that I have to work tomorrow and with my work in general—pausing occasionally to shovel another handful of buttery comfort into my mouth.
Ivy:Hang on. Why is he irritated with you for going to your meeting?
Me:Sunday is our only day together, and he drove all the way here.
Ivy:
And you drove all the way there on Monday, only to have him leave you waiting without explanation. You had a good excuse. He didn’t.
Me:He wants to be able to spend more time together. He was already disappointed because of the Labor Day thing.
She sends me a full screen of face-palms in reply, but I can’t really blame Alec for being frustrated that I have to work tomorrow on one of his few days off. The thing is, I took Independence Day in exchange for agreeing to work Labor Day. I can’t call in sick, though I think that’s what he wants.
Ivy:You can’t blow off work commitments.
Me:I know. But he said it feels like I’m more committed to my work than to him. He wants me to ask for different hours. Or look for a different job.
Ivy:And you said... ?
Me:I didn’t say no...
But I also didn’t agree with him. He was in such a foul mood when I came back from my meeting, I had a hard time keeping my own temper in check. And I’m not sure I want to rearrange or leave a job I love for a relationship that is this difficult to navigate. Even basic conversation is becoming a challenge, making my brain itch like flea-ridden eczema rolled in stinging nettle.
If this relationship werethe one, shouldn’t conversation flow? Like it does with—
Ivy:Tell me what else you’ve been up to.
I tell Ivy a little about work and mention that instead of running every day this week, I want to get a couple of bike rides in so I won’t be saddle-sore on the Moab trip a friend of mine is planning.
Ivy:You? Have been running DAILY? Are you okay?
Whoops.
Ivy knows me as the intermittent runner I usually am. Honestly, it’s only been the last week that I’ve gone every day. If I happen to see Noah every time, that doesn’t mean he’s thereasonI’m going.
It just... feels good.
To run.
Lately.
Ivy:Hello?
She’s not going to let this go, and she’ll see right through me if I try to dodge the bullet that’s coming.
Me:Don’t freak out, but yes, I’ve been running every day. And... maybe I might usually happen to run into Noah while I’m out there.
Ivy:FREAKING OUT!
