Forget to Remember Ch. 05

"Josh, do you think you could talk to him? He cares about you. I mean, obviously, since he hasn't given up yet, even though your only date was literally months ago. Why are you keeping him away?"

Maris pleads with me but I close my eyes and grimace with frustration. She doesn't get it. I never chose to get closure about the whole Officer Implausible situation. I'm not ready for that hurt, and anyway, the more time that passes the less I feel I need to hear him say what I know. Kells doesn't want me, he's just a nice guy and had pretty much saved me from my own stupidity. I'm not ungrateful for his part in saving my life, but no way am I going to be anyone's charity case. He's definitely moved on as he totally should have. I sigh and launch into my well-worn explanation to her.

"Maris, you know how I feel. I couldn't be with someone who feels sorry for me, like him. In any case, I am trying to work on myself, and I can't move forward holding onto fantasies of the past. It's better if I just let it go."

Maris glares at me with narrowed eyes, rubbing the vee of frown lines in her forehead as she snaps at me exasperatedly

"Josh you need to talk about this in therapy. He isn't feeling sorry for you, he likes you. Why are you deliberately being obtuse?"

I know my expression can really only be described as bitchy, but I am fed up with this constant badgering. I throw my napkin onto the table and add a twenty dollar bill for the meal.

"This conversation is over Maris. I'm in charge of my own life and I don't think talking to him is best for me. I'm sorry, but I have errands to run. I love you, call me later."

I stalk stiff legged and seething from the deli we've been meeting at, in lieu of our old coffeeshop. Why won't she let it go? I've said why it won't work, why it can't work, and everyone needs to accept it. Including me really, as I feel my heart ache at the thought of never seeing Kells again. But I need to move on, not mope and behave like a lovesick teenager looping his name and mine in exaggerated cursive on the pages of a notebook. Everytime I think of Kells, I feel the rush of attraction. Deeper than lust. I was attracted to his looks and his sense of self, well as much of it as I knew anyway. He stirs things in me I didn't know existed.

On the other hand, every time I think of him I'm reminded of how he's seen me at my worst and likely pities me for being weak. I can't continue to crush on him like he is the golden jock to my nerd in some high school bubblegum fantasy. I feel my eyes get that familiar burn as I dodge the people in the sidewalk impeding my mission to get away and be alone again at my house. I just need to get home, where I can out myself back together in peace.

************

Why had I let Maris talk me into this? I fidget nervously, glancing at the clock every few seconds. I'm shocked every time that the hands don't jump in time, because this wait feels tortuously long. I draw in deep breaths and focus on the feel of the air in my lungs and the act of breathing to keep me grounded. I'm not sure I'm ready to be romantic again. I need to try though. There is a small determined part of me that knows this is part of what all my months of therapy and healing have been about. It's not about me getting a man or dating, though that's a piece of the complex knot I've been unraveling in therapy. It's about feeling strong, feeling worthy, feeling valuable and connected. Those things won't come from anyone else, they will come from me, at least Naomi has tried to drill that into me. This date is not going to be like before, now I am to feel out who I am in relation to someone else, someone I'm attracted to. I can only hope getting back on the horse so soon helps me figure out what direction my burgeoning confidence wants to travel in. A motion catches my eye, he's wearing a grey cardigan and royal blue dress shirt just as he said he would. He looks cute, and that smile: yum. He spots me as I make a tentative wave and walks over to me. Grinning he gestures to the empty seat across from me.

"Hi. May I sit?" I smile happily, surprised that I am feeling some nerves but not debilitating shyness.

"Please do. That shirt really makes your eyes pop."

He laughs a bit self consciously, "Well thanks. You look great too."

We stare at each other, each at a loss for how to move forward. A bit of an awkward silence falls, but our eyes meet and for some reason I nervously giggle which sets him off. Soon we both are snorting and snuffling in glee trying not to laugh ourselves silly in that slap happy way familiar to those who experience prolonged lack of sleep, or extreme stress and anxiety.

I manage to pull myself together and smile again at him, his eyes are so sparkly. And kind, he has such kind eyes. I repeat my grounding breaths and start the conversation

"So Owen, Nathan says you work in his department? What exactly do you do there?"