Page 22 of Anything for You
She pressed her hands together and laughed, head dropping in a show of chagrin before turning those bright blue eyes of hers back on me.
“Can I start over?”
Still wordless but interested, I notched my chin down.
She bit her bottom lip lightly, then smiled genuinely before straightening her shoulders, dropping her hands to her sides, and pushing out her chest a little as she lengthened her spine, and raising her chin. “Good morning, Dorian. How are you today?”
This, I could do. “Good. You?”
She grinned. “I’m good, too.” Her faced dropped, smile easing into something more thoughtful. “A little bruised up, I think.”
“Are you hurt?” I asked, right as Bear finally lost his self-control and slipped past me to greet her.
She instantly dropped down to one knee to pet my giant dog.
“Oh, hello, Sir Bear. You are looking so handsome today. Have you been keeping your dad company?” She spoke so sweetly to him while her hands stroked over his head and back.
“That’s what he gets paid for,” I said, sounding oddly irritable.
Her face tilted up to mine with one raised brow. “And is the pay fair?”
God, she was cute. That thought wasn’t helpful, and I hadn’t moved past her earlier mention of pain. “Are you hurt? You said you’re bruised?”
She tsked. “Well, my feet are not happy with my shoe selection from last night. But otherwise, I’m fine. I more meant…” She whispered something like “good boy” to Bear, then stood and gave me her eyes. “Emotionally bruised?”
The way she said it sounded like a question, but I understood what she meant. At least I thought I did. And though I’d never have a conversation like this with someone I didn’t know out of the blue, Dove and I had shared some oddly vulnerable moments in the last few months, so this didn’t seem outside of that pattern.
Stepping out onto the porch, I gestured to the swing and two large chairs. She almost skipped toward the swing.
Knew it.Don’t ask me how, but I knew she’d choose the swing.
I took one of the other seats. “It’s bittersweet, to say the least.”
This time, her smile was more subdued. Almost pensive, she pushed back with her toes and let the swing rock her back and forth.
“I’m so happy for them. Truly just… heart bursting with joy for these dear friends.”
I nodded, hearing the “but” without her having to speak it. “All that brightness can end up casting a shadow on the places that feel most tender.”
Like she said, that bruised feeling.
She blinked back at me. “I thought you might get it.”
I dipped my chin. I did. More and more, the strange combination of happiness for my friends and wistful longing for myself tangled inside me. I’d done a lot of work on allowing for two emotions to exist in me at the same time, and I accepted the duality applied to this situation.
“One thing my therapist talks about all the time is how we can feel more than one feeling about something. I have a personality that wants to figure out how I feel about something, address it in some way, and move on. But these last few years, I’ve been learning how complex and messy a lot of life is.”
She continued pushing herself back and forth on the swing, still anchored by her toes, eventually finding my eyes and sending a dropping sensation straight to my gut when she held my gaze.
“What kinds of things?”
I shifted, patting Bear’s head where he sat by my legs. He might like Dove, but he could tell my energy was off in some way, so he wouldn’t sink down into full repose just yet.
“Biggest one is probably my time in service and something that happened there. I was in for fifteen years so it’s not easy to sum up anyway, but I wanted to compartmentalize it. For some people, that means taking whatever experience or expertise or trauma or whatever you have and tucking it away into a different room or a closet where the door can close and lock. You only address those things when you choose to open the door again—if it works right. For me, the way I thought about it was like a labeling system. I could endure anything as long as I could process it and give it a label. Good. Bad. Evil. Worthy. Painful… whatever. I could make sense of whatever I needed to if I could slap a label on it and move on.”
She waited, not interrupting or asking questions. Just leaving me space to talk. As chatty as she tended to be, she could be so quiet and present.
I shrugged, not embarrassed to have talked too much, but not wanting to drag this out. “Long story short, it’s not that simple. And I’ve found I agree with the idea. Still challenging to not get frustrated when things feel conflicting, but I think it’s wise to… allow it, if that even makes sense.”
