We're Okay

Panic! At The Bakery

Bathrooms hold many memories. You name it and a bathroom has probably seen it. Vomiting in the toilet, smoking or vaping, even swirlies, which I have experienced for myself, are all part of this category.

I can now truthfully say that this particular bathroom has seen a person riding the border between an anxiety attack and just regular old panic.

That would be me. I took deep, calming breaths to avoid the oncoming attack before things got too bad. I tried to convince myself that things weren't that bad.

And yet, things seemed bad no matter what way I looked at it. I'd trusted this guy, even crushed on him, only to have those feelings shattered like a fragile coffee mug dropped on the ground. How could I possibly keep the flame of those feelings alive when he was "Jordan"?

It was like Ira himself was the water suffocating the relationship I might have had, if that made sense. But it didn't make sense, that was the problem! Nothing made sense. Not my crappy metaphors, not Ira being Jordan, not my own feelings that had vanished like smoke in the wind.

Was it ever real in the first place? I'd like to think no, but how could I trust myself with another decision after what happened?

I heard a buzz.

Freezing in fear, I slowly unlocked my phone to confirm what I already knew.

•

_Jordan._: I'm here. Where are you?

•

He would see I left him on seen, but it didn't mean a thing to me. He didn't mean a thing to me.

•

_Jordan._: Hellooooo? Did I get the address right?

•

Seeing his notification still crushed me. It was a terrible feeling. After all this time, they were the same person? It couldn't be! Jordan and Ira were still two totally different people in my mind. Ira was a hot headed, arrogant, selfish snollygoster. Yeah, you heard me. A snollygoster. He had no moral compass or reason as to why he did things, he just did them.

Jordan was different. He felt things, really felt them. He was smart and functional and capable of understanding himself and me. Jordan actually, genuinely cared about me.

Or I thought he did. Now that I thought about it, it was entirely possible Ira had made the account to torture me. He found me on social media and thought "Oh, we could have some fun with this." He was one to stoop so low.

But it didn't make sense!

Even after ten full minutes of thought and many more than ten unanswered texts from "Jordan," I thought it would be best to call Bailey and ask for her advice.

My hands shook with leftover nerves as I searched for her contact number. Clicking it, I held the phone to my ear and waited for her with bated breath to pick up.

It rang once.

It rang twice.

"Ben?" she asked, sounding thoroughly confused.

"Thank God!" I gasped.

"Why are you calling me? Is it going so great that you couldn't wait to tell me?"

   I hated to spoil her good mood, but I really needed her help. Millie had asked me to be more selfish about my mental health. Maybe this is what they meant? Was I doing the right thing, asking Bailey for help?

I couldn't tell her everything. I would possibly ask for advice or some comfort, but I had hidden Ira's schemes from her for this long and I wasn't going to stress her out with that load of information. Hopefully I would never have to tell her.

"So it's not all sunshine and lollipops over there?"

Of course she didn't need any words to know everything wasn't okay. I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose, feeling exhausted.

"It's been bad. Just...he's not what I expected him to be. He's different."

"Oh, that's disappointing."

You have no idea, I thought to myself.

"I need to come home. I'm going to leave soon."

"Are you going to walk out on him?"

"No," I lied, "I'm going to tell him something came up."

"Isn't that walking out on him?"

"It won't be a lie," I lied again.

"What came up?"

"My crush evaporated. It's gone. I don't need no man."

"That was quick. Are you sure you don't want to give him another chance?"

"One hundred and ten percent."

"Okay. I'll see you soon. Will we talk about this later? More detail?"

"I don't think I'll be ready for that."

"That's alright. I love you. See you soon."

I smiled to myself. "Thanks, Bailey. Bye, love you too."

I hung up.

The moment my phone shut off, I felt a powerful surge of anger. It came with remembering who was waiting for me outside the bathroom door. That bastard didn't deserve a word out of me, much less a date.

   I walked over to the mirror and checked myself. I looked like I needed sleep and a gallon of coffee. Splashing cold water on my face and taking a few deep breaths, I controlled my anger. It would do me no good to show it.

Gathering my strength, I checked for my keys, wallet, and phone before heading for the bathroom door.

It opened before I could reach it.

The man on the other side looked surprised.

"Lin? What are you doing here?"

I felt the anger I had so neatly tucked away a few seconds prior bubble up again and spill out of my mouth without another thought.

"I work here, asshole. I was hoping for a date, but seeing him out the window made me have second thoughts," I spit coldly. "Have a nice life, Jordan."

Without looking back to see his expression, I shoved him out of the way as I strode for my car.

I felt high and mighty for a moment. It had felt good to hurt him with a sharp tongue, but it only hurt me worse afterwards.

There was no going back.

I'd lost Jordan.