Page 20 of Be Your Forever
“I-I…um…thank you. I, maybe I will. I just…thank you.”
The chair squeaks when I stand up. Alison meets me halfway and pulls me into another hug. My vision becomes fuzzy, but I hold in the tears for when I get home.
As soon as I exit the salon, I’m pulling up the Uber app and requesting a ride. Soon enough, I’ll be in the comfort of my own home. I can, albeit barely, manage to get into a car with somewhat manageable anxiety. I put my headphones on to block out the noise. My eyes are shut so hard, it borders on painful. But thoughts of driving again? That causes a full-fledged panic attack.
Where I can let the tears cascade down my face.
Where there’s absolutely no way I can disappoint anyone again.
After my allotted time was up, I sent a text to my boss letting her know I needed more time. I didn't want to meet with her in person, so I messaged her. I am so thankful I have an amazing, understanding boss. She put me on temporary leave and told me to contact her when I’m ready.
But working at the salon doesn’t call to me anymore, not like opening up my own bookstore would. Or, should I say, did. My heart hurts too much to follow through on that dream without my brother. Max and I used to plan everything together, especially with his work as a carpenter. I had everything planned out. I even went as far as creating a full business proposal and was planning to ask a bank for a loan. But my dream shattered the day my car did, dead and useless. I just want to fall in love with something again.
And speaking of falling in love, that’s also something I want to do. After watching my bestie find her forever partner, a part of me yearns for that. I look at my parents' relationship with envy and longing. I grew up in a loving household, watching my parents be sickeningly affectionate with each other. I want the fantasies I read about in books to become my reality. I want a real life book boyfriend.
I scan my surroundings looking for a scrap piece of paper to write all these down so I don’t forget.
Fall in love with my body
Fall in love with sex (again)
Start living for myself (aka take risks)
Asking for help (go to therapy)
Find my true purpose in life
Get over fear of driving
Fall in love
I’m so involved in scribbling things down that I don’t realize Asher has snuck up behind me.
“Fall in love with sex, huh?” he chuckles. Out of all the things he could have focused on, he chooses that one. I turn to look at him, and his laugh instantly falls from his face.
Way to go, Bri. You think this silly little list will get rid of us? Think again. How desperate are you if you have to create a list?
“Shit, Bri. I’m sorry. I wasn’t making fun of you. I…um…That was just the first thing I saw. God, that was such a dick move. I’m so sorry.”
I pull the piece of paper against my chest as an embarrassed blush creeps up my neck. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s just something I was thinking about since our conversation this morning. It’s just a silly little list.” I force a smile on my face that I know he doesn’t believe, and change the subject. “Did you get the boxes?” I ask, hoping he’ll just drop the subject altogether—which, of course, he doesn’t.
“It is not a silly little list. I’m proud of you for making it. Can I…Can I read it?”
His palm is outstretched toward me, allowing me to make my own decision. I mean, I did say that Asher was the perfect person to help me. This could be my first risk: ask Asher to help me with my goals.
I stare into his stunning blue eyes, and I feel no judgement. He’s genuinely curious, and I trust him. Not only to help me with each task, but I trust he won’t make fun of me for it. I want him to know what he’s getting himself into before asking for his help. My shaky hands loosen their death-like grip on the now crumpled piece of paper and place it into his waiting hand. I’m mentally playing a game of tennis with my anxious thoughts. My self-confidence holds the racquet and swats away any negative thoughts that try to sneak their way past my defenses.
He’s gonna think you’re dumb. It’s because you are.
It’s only been a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity. My fingers tap out a nervous rhythm on the table up until Asher places his hand overmine. He meets my eyes and smiles. His smile exudes pride and some other feeling I can’t quite decipher. Before I know it, he’s pulling me up, and his arms wrap around me.
“This is incredible. You created a rediscovery list.”
“A what?”
“A rediscovery list. You put things on there so you can relearn who you are. I’m so fucking proud of you for wanting to do this. And before you say anything, it has nothing to do with what I said this morning and all to do with you. Our conversation might have sparked something, but this is all you. I hope you feel as proud of yourself as I do.”
I look down at my list as the wordsrediscovery listrattle around in my brain. I grab the pen and add the wordsMy Rediscovery Liston top of the notebook paper. I stare at it a moment as satisfaction and joy swirl in my body like the Northern Lights. It’s bright, and brilliant, and it's all me. I want to cling to this feeling for as long as I can, and I think this list will help me. I’m basking in my bravery, so I decide to ask the difficult—well, difficult for me—question.
