Page 107 of Best Year Ever
I miss the way he made my body feel.
I miss the safe feeling I had with him, someone that really had my back.
And I miss the warmth in my heart that I felt our last few weeks together, when it seemed like I’d found the one person who embraced everything about me and my life.
I start a conversation with another player who’s snacking on some veggies and cheese, but I can’t even follow clearly what she’s talking about. I’m just trying to avoid thinking about Landon.
On the drive back to the cottage later, I reflect on what Dad said when we were at the old house, which was so similar to Aunt Mandy’s comments a couple of months before.
Finally ready to receive what they suggested, it clicks for me that I’ve relied on my tennis to feel fulfilled for a long time. A crutch to fill gaps in my personal life.
When tennis made me feel whole and successful, I didn't need to be vulnerable with other people. Didn’t need to take risks or expose myself to loss.
The problem is that tennis isnotmaking me feel whole right now.
Instead, there’s a Landon-shaped hole in my chest. Like Maggie said, I didn’t even know what I was missing in my life until he showed me.
I’ve had more time to think about the media stuff too. When Julie and Dad came to ask for my blessing in making astatement about being together, Julie said something that connected for me later—that she’d moved past being worried about public opinion.
Wasn’t that exactly the thing that had me so stuck? Letting myself be distracted by fears of what people thought, what they talked about? Letting my emotions be steered left or right by press coverage?
Looking at everything that’s happened, I can admit that’s what I have been doing. Why should I care? If I’m not going to let what Tessa says bug me, why should I care about a gossipy headline, especially if it costs me the man I want?
Sleep that night is fitful as I can’t stop thinking of Landon, second-guessing everything I’ve done. I wake up still feeling uneasy and out-of-sorts.
Do I want him back?
Damn, I think I do.I do.
I really messed this up. I acted out of emotion in Toronto instead of giving our situation time to breathe and the chaos around us to calm.
This is my mess to fix. I own it. And the only solution I can think of is terrifying—reaching out to him, potentially having my heart crushed. Or maybe he will ghost me, like I ignored him at the beginning.
I have to try, though.I have to push through that fear.
I’m playing the dynamics out in my head all morning.
During my court time with my hitting partner, I go through the motions. Luckily, I’m feeling physically great, and my body’s so attuned to our drill sequences that my tennis is passable. I’m not meeting with Julie until this afternoon, and this morning’s hit is meant to maintain my rhythm on the court.
After finishing the morning session, I bump into Maggie in the facility’s locker room.
“Hey friend, how we doing?” she asks, sitting on one of the benches, rewrapping one of her racquet’s grips.
“I’m okay. Not a terrible day on court, but I’m strugglingwith something else,” I say, taking a sip of my water. “Aboutyou know who.”
Maggie’s hands pause. “Do tell. Maybe I can help?”
“Maybe,” I say. “Obviously I shut down Landon pretty hard while in Canada, right?”
“Yes, you and your stone-cold heart,” Maggie says, only half joking. “Making boys suffer since we were 14.”
I take that comment at face value, knowing there’s some truth to it.
“You’ve been pretty quiet about it since it first happened though,” she observes. “I haven’t wanted to be annoying and pry, with everything going on with Julie afterwards too.”
I work up the nerve to admit the direction of my feelings out loud for the first time.
“What if I were to tell you I think I made a mistake with ending things with Landon?”
