Page 35 of Delayed Intention

A Decision?

The note from Lily was burning a hole in my coat pocket the entire way back to my place.

As soon as I walked in, Ginger left from the sofa and moved to the floor.

I could see how much snow she had tracked through the back door and into the kitchen.

It was my fault, since she had been here on her own for so long.

With some old towels from the closet, I worked to dry up the kitchen floor before throwing a blanket on the sofa to protect it from snowy paws.

Grabbing a beer out of the fridge, I finally opened the envelope and started to read as Ginger snuggled next to me.

Josh,

It’s the middle of the night, and I can’t sleep.

This visit, even though it’s been less than a day, has been unsettling. The truth is I’m having all these feelings. Maybe I have a hero complex? You know, since you rescued me from having to drive through mountains? Was that just on the last day? It feels like it happened a week ago.

I’m terrified, but I need to be honest with you. I’ve decided, just now, that I’m going to write this as if I am never going to give it to you. And knowing me, maybe I won’t.

Here’s the thing—I think you know you were my safe space when we were kids, and you’ve started to become one again. (Despite the 3rd night of Hanukah.)

It’s not just your patience with me and taking the time to drive out to Lyons. Even before that, my perception of you has been evolving, and I think it was because of our letters. There is a history between us, and, for me, complex feelings.

You are attractive and someone I am drawn to… How do I navigate this without falling off a cliff? This feels like the opposite of casual, and what frightens me more than anything is that I don’t feel in control. Like, I don’t have a handle on myself.

What about you? Have you had any new (or old) feelings for me? Have you been thinking of me the way I’m thinking of you? You said I am attractive to you? Is that like I’m not unpleasant to look at? Or are you pulled toward me the way I am toward you?

Something about writing letters and sharing our real thoughts. I guess I’m not saying what I’m thinking, though. I am kind of talking in platitudes without being direct. If you don’t want to know where my mind has been going… maybe stop reading now.

Still here? Okay. You were warned.

First of all, I’m happy we’re friends again, so I hope the rest of this letter does not screw that up.

The truth is, I feel like I’m crushing on you all over again.

I feel nervous around you. When my hand touched yours, I didn’t want to pull away.

That never happens to me. I mean—you know this about me.

Physical touch is not my love language. Despite that, when I look at you sometimes, I want to throw my arms around you, kiss you, and I think… what the hell is happening to me?

So… anyway, that’s how I’ve been feeling and what I’ve been thinking about.

Yours, apparently,

Lily

I drop the letter on my sofa and head into the kitchen to walk over to get myself something stronger than my beer to drink. Now what? I wanted our friendship to get back on track, but this was everything I needed to avoid. Isn’t it?

Fuck .

No shit I want her, in a way that cannot happen.

Since the day I opened her social media, seeing her as she is now, my inner caveman is feral for her.

But the rest? A relationship will never be my thing.

What I need is to not hurt her again. It is critical that we get physical distance between us, soon.

If we hook up, it will only cause her pain. I’m not capable of anything else.

It’s like she hasn’t listened to anything I’ve said. I pour myself a whiskey and skip the ice.

I can see there’s no easy way out of this situation. Throwing back the rest of my drink, I savor the burn of it as I sit down and write a note back.

Dear Lily,

Wow. That was quite a letter.

I hope you know how beautiful you are—inside and out. I certainly see you that way. I’m also really thankful we’ve become friends again.

I’m not going to lie and tell you that I don’t find you attractive.

Of course, I do . The thing is, I’m just not relationship material.

I never have been. Using your words, we have too much history between us—being casual isn’t possible—you have to understand that.

I don’t want us to hurt each other. I hope you can see why this is the only way forward.

Your friend,

Josh

Folding the paper, I shove it into a random envelope before heading out into the dark to walk to her place with Ginger by my side.

It feels like a shitty letter—part of me doesn’t want to give it to her.

The temptation to be reckless is there—but that would be the worst possible move.

Maybe not for a night or two, but I know better.

As her friend, as someone who cares, I know this is the best thing for her. For both of us.

It’s a crisp night, and the smell of impending snow is in the air. It’s almost metallic—the atmosphere feels incredibly heavy, which matches my mood perfectly. When I arrive at the motel, I find the room where I’d dropped her off earlier. Before losing my resolve, I shove my note under her door.