Page 10 of Ugly Beautiful Scars

What I don't say is how rigidly I've controlled what he knows about me. He's shared stories about his childhood dog's funeral, about falling off the stage during college graduation, about his grandma's meatloaf recipe that he still can't replicate. He's given little pieces of a real life in an attempt to make a deeper connection.

Meanwhile, I've given him carefully curated scraps. Books I've read (true). My favorite candle scent (true). Stories about my childhood (completely fabricated so he doesn't find stories about Elle the Actress online and connect the dots). I even lied about my job and told him I work at a clothing boutique in Midtown. I've made a patchwork persona that's just real enough to be believable but not real enough to be traceable.

I want to meet him, but I don't know if I can go through with it today. I'm too triggered.

RavenMad:That'd be a proper suck of the sauce bottle! You've talked about him a lot!

Londyn83:haha! Sometimes I have no idea what you're saying.

RavenMad:You love me for it.

Londyn83:So how's the Hole In The Ceiling saga? Has your landlord sent another "repair person" who just stares at it and leaves?

Raven's ongoing battle with her Melbourne landlord is better than any reality TV show. I lean back in my chair, hoping for a diversion.

RavenMad:OH MY GOD YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

I smile as her enthusiasm fills my screen.

RavenMad:Yesterday I come home and there's a bloke in my flat, standing on a stepladder, PAINTING AROUND THE HOLE. Not fixing it. PAINTING IT. Like if he makes it the same color as the ceiling, I won't notice there's still a hole!

I laugh out loud and both Maria and Josh peek out of their separate cubicles. They both give me a warm smile. I bet they know I'm messing around at work, but they do it too. I actually give them a smile in return before focusing on my keyboard.

Londyn83:No way. What did you say?

RavenMad:Asked if he was planning to paint my floors too since they get soaked every time it rains. He says that's "a separate work order" and he "only does paint." Then the landlord has the nerve to text me after saying they've "addressed my concerns about the ceiling aesthetics."

Londyn83:Aesthetics??? So the giant hole letting in rain is just... a skylight feature now?

RavenMad:Exactly! "Luxury natural water feature" will be in the next rental listing. I hate my landlord.

I grin and relax into my chair. For these few minutes, I exist outside my careful container and constant vigilance. I'm just a normal person chatting with a friend.

But like a stage manager cutting through the chatter with a time warning, Raven brings us back to reality.

RavenMad:So... date or no date? It's completely okay to cancel if you're feeling off. If Marcus is a good bloke, he'll understand. And if he doesn't, fuck him.

My body is heavy in my ergonomic chair, like I can't lift a finger. The fluorescent lights suddenly feel too bright, too exposing.

Six years. Six years since I've voluntarily sat across from a man and tried to make conversation or flirt. Six years of isolation. Six years of safety through invisibility.

And now I'm contemplating dinner with a stranger.

I'm a house divided against itself. Part of me wants to cancel and eat ice cream all night. Another part—a part growing louder each passing month—is desperate to step out into the sun again. Just the sun, not the spotlight.

I miss touch and companionship. Whether I truly connect with Marcus or not, I'm longing to try. I'd like to get closer to something resembling a normal life.

Therapy has a term for this: reclamation. Taking back what was stolen. Not just surviving, but living.

My last therapist would be proud that I'm naming the fear and acknowledging the desire to move forward. That I'm fighting against what happened in my past so it doesn't define my entire future.

RavenMad:U still there, luv?

I stare at the blinking cursor on the screen. I don't know what to tell her, or what to decide.

I want to go on the date; I don't want to. I'm a little excited; I'm a ton of terrified.

Raven messages again before I can finish thinking. She is a little impatient sometimes.

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