Dear Jesse,
You asked me if I had a place to stay, then told me not to go home for a while. I wanted to bring you with me, in that dream. But I ran instead. I ran to the neighbours who kept their porch lights on.
They knew I would come.
-
We both lean up against an open display of marinated kebabs. It’s not the best setting for a heart to heart, but the universe is making us try something.
“So. How were the girls in Ibiza?” I raise my eyebrows and give him the tiniest smile.
He looks down and shakes his head. “There weren’t really any.” Then, his tone switches from almost melancholic to sassy. “And how about bartenders? Still causing problems within the hospitality industry?”
I roll my eyes. “I’m retiring that era. How’s your girlfriend in Tampa Bay?”
“Emily, I’m still really upset about that.”
“Why are you upset?”
“Because it was just drama for no reason.”
My friend hasn’t noticed us bickering by the marinated kebabs at all. She’s eyeing the display case next to us. I reach over and touch her arm.
“Hi! I was just - ” All of the sudden, her face and tone drops. “Oh. Hi.” She looks at Jesse, then back at me.
“Hey. It’s good to see you.” He tells her. He met my friend on the night of my birthday, and they got along well.
“I’m surprised at how much I like him.” She texted me during dinner.
“I really like your friend. And I want your friends to like me, too. I don’t know…I feel like they know part of a story but they don’t understand…” He told me, later that night.
“I was buying a sausage and then I turned around - ” I start to explain the run in.
“Did you recognize Emily from the back?” Her tone is chilly, and I love her for it.
“No, I didn’t realize it was her at all. She’s wearing these cute sunglasses.” He reaches for the sunglasses on my head, tipping them forward just enough to mess up my hair.
First of all, I wouldn’t describe my oversized Chloë’s as just “cute”, and secondly - I’m not a fan of this move. He knows what he’s doing - trying to charm his way back in and test the waters with us both. I stand there, fix my hair, and give my friend a look.
“So.” Jesse tries to break the silence. “Do you two coordinate your grocery shopping together?”
“No.” She responds in monotone. There is not an inch of her that is reacting. And I know it’s driving him insane.
-
Dear Jesse,
In the dream, I heard yelling. I heard a woman’s voice shriek from the bedroom upstairs.
“It’s happening again.”
Who’s voice was it? Did you stop him? Did you save her? Did you want to save her?
-
He looks at both of us, and then decides his fate. Or, rather, we have decided it for him.
No reactions = indifference. And indifference from a woman is a scary thing to a man who is ruled by ego.
“Well. It was good seeing you both.” He gives me the quickest hug I’ve ever received, gives a nod to my friend, and runs out of that grocery store.
“Emily.” My friend looks at me. “I…I…”
“I know.” I link my arm through hers, and we both burst out laughing.
-
Dear Jesse,
I feel stupid sometimes, did you know that?
Maybe you don’t, but I’m telling you now.
My friend tells me she thinks men have a hard time with me because I come across as light, but have an emotional depth that needs to be matched. Maybe it throws off perception. Maybe it intimidates some, and maybe it scares off others.
I’ve always felt like I had to shrink myself with men. I don’t think they liked that I could shine without them. In university, my ex boyfriend got really high and told me he thought I was going to leave him for someone “cooler.” Jesse - what does cool even mean? I think he used that as reasoning for why he was always messaging other women. And to be honest with you - it makes sense.
Dear Jesse, his mom would drink a lot and then tell me all the reasons why she left his father. He cheated on her while she was pregnant. And Jesse, I don’t even think she left him first. I think he might have left her.
Dear Jesse, my mom didn’t want me going over to his house anymore.
Dear Jesse, she tried to protect me. But I did experience violence. I called the police. I sat on my friend’s sofa. They stood in the doorway while I told them what happened.
They told me not to go back for a while.
I told you this, I made you worry.
Dear Jesse, I don’t trust men.
Dear Jesse, can you really blame me?
On my birthday, I asked how you were doing without your best friend. You answered quickly then changed the subject.
“But how are you doing? Without your mom?”
Dear Jesse. No one had asked me that for a while.
Dear Jesse. I know I said I didn’t trust men, but I trusted you.
Dear Jesse. I squeezed your hand and said, “We can never go back to who we were.”
I've been waiting for this since you posted the first part... I love it
I have chills 🤍