In my defense, it wasn't as if anyone was likely to drop inon me without notice. I could count on one hand the number of people who knew where I was, and of them, only my brother could pick Somerville, Massachusetts out on a map. That was one of the big pros of coming here.
Somerville is giving me six months away from the smoldering wreckage of my personal and romantic life back in Texas. Six months to become a new version of Toni. One who has her shit together. A Toni who moves with purpose, instead of blowing into whatever port would have her, wreaking havoc along the way.
Less hurricane, more...something I’d figure out in the next five months.
It was a sound plan. Even if right now, it felt more like it would be six months of me lying on my floor listening to Taylor Swift records on repeat, surrounded by unpacked boxes and unassembled furniture.
Pathetic.
The only way the current image I cut could be sadder was adding red wine and working at 1:00 am.
My phone vibrates against my chest, pulling me out of one spiral to, most likely, fling me into another. Without a doubt, it’s a client who’s convinced one of their marketing dashboards is malfunctioning when, in reality, they just don’t know how to use it. I’d been lucky they'd all stuck with me when I went on sabbatical for a month to move, but the onslaught of emails upon my return had been actual hell.
Reluctantly, I look at the notification.
Not a client, but a new submission to my contact form. I consider ignoring it. But while my client roster was nearly full, packing up one's life and heading across the country was an expensive endeavor, even with my brother's help saving me from having to shell out for movers. Capitalism stops for no man, and especially not for a woman in crisis.
Groaning, I force myself to sit up and open the email onmy phone. Getting up to go to the couch where my laptop awaited was asking far too much of me at this moment.
Toni,
Since you’ve blocked me everywhere else, this is the only way I can think of to get through to you.
I know you said you need space. I want to give you that, but I just found out that you’ve moved? To Boston, of all places?
I’m going to be honest, disappearing across the country without a word to me or any of our friends feels chaotic, even for you. Again, I want to give you the space you say you need, but this worries me. It just feels ridiculous to leave everything, and for what? Are you just going to be Hurricane Toni forever?
I want to fix this, Toni. I want to fix US. I thought that’s what this year was about. Taking space to learn and giving us a chance to come back and be better together. But instead, you go 2,000 miles away? Without a word? It just seems so selfish not to consider the impact of your choices given the situation you’ve put us in.
All I’m asking is that you step back, stop being so unreasonable, and consider your choices.
Yours always,
- David
My blood roars in my ears, drowning out the music. My hands shake. My chest tightens.
I read the words again. And again. One more time.
Each time, I hope maybe they'll transmute, become, if not softer, at least something that stings less. But no. They stay the same, smarting against all my frayed edges, all the places where friendships, security, and any ideas of a future had once been.
A thrum of razor-edged tension rakes through my body,pulling me to my feet, driving me to pace. I weave circuitous paths around boxes and piles of art supplies and clothing. The wordunreasonableis burning a black hole into my mind, threatening to suck me into an even darker headspace than the one I was sitting in just moments ago.
Maybe there was some truth to his words. Perhaps I was unreasonable. Maybe?—
The image of him down on one knee at our friend's annual Christmas party barrels into me. His expectant expression, the hush of everyone around us, a solitaire diamond glittering in that classic blue box so many dream of.
It’s easy to remember that moment—the calm before the storm. But it’s harder to force myself to remember how his expectant expression melted into something just shy of fury as my lack of response dragged on for too long. The way the anticipatory silence switched to shocked murmurs. His mouth formed the words, “Don't embarrass me,” even as mine formed, “I can't.”
I didn’t put us in that situation. He did. From day one, I told him I wasn't interested in marriage or kids. For the next three years, he tried to convince me otherwise, so sure I'd change my mind.
I didn't.
I wouldn't.
And that wasn't unreasonable.
I had to remember that. I was allowed not to want that life.
