Jennie
Against my better judgment, I send Lisa a quick, short text when I get home.
Jennie: Thanks for the kitty.
I fidget anxiously as I wait for her response, but it comes in record time.
Lisa: You're welcome. I really hope you like it.
I stand there for a moment, wondering if I should initiate further conversation. I wonder if it's a good idea to talk to her and get wrapped up in words from a person I should probably avoid.
But she's likely encouraged by the fact that I initiated the conversation, because she texts again before I make a decision.
Lisa: Have you been well?
My insides flutter when I get her message. I think for a moment and respond.
Jennie: All things considered, yes. You?
It takes her a little longer to reply this time.
Lisa: I've been better. I really miss you.
I bite the knuckles of my good hand in excitement and apprehension. What does this mean? Oh, everything about her is just so confusing! I squeeze the cat in a death grip as I try to make head or tails of her words.
I type my response before I can really process how I'm feeling, my inner commitment to honesty ringing loudly in my ears.
Jennie: I miss you, too.
God, we're such a sad pair. How did we ever get in the mess?
Lisa: I can think of a good solution to this...
The thought of inviting Lisa over excites me in every imaginable way. But am I - and is she - ready for that? Are we ready to try and make something more of the mess of the way we came together? Even if I was over everything that happened and able to completely forgive him, are we still emotionally ready to be more to each other than just memories and lessons learned?
I think about this for several minutes. My hands shake, my heart aches, and the next words I send her make me want to cry.
Jennie: I'm sorry, Lisa. I just need a little more time.
Her next text surprises me.
Lisa: I understand. I'll give you all the time you need, Jennie. If there's anyone in the world worth waiting for, it's you.
