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What’s worse than a woman who can’t enjoy her own company?
What I realized, though probably far too young, is that some things can’t be “fixed.”
sometimes good things are just good things.
“Oh golly, what trouble! I sure do hope you don’t fall in love with a man such as this!”
It was never supposed to be a permanent position. I’ve had one foot out the door since I started. Not that I’ve done anything to get two feet out.
“They go for my leg every time. I don’t know if it’s because it’s shiny and they like that, or if geese are just little ableist fucks, but they’re always trying to attack me.”
“I certainly want to keep you.” He blanches as soon as the words leave his mouth. “I mean, I want to keep you happy. Here and happy and—”
Finance Bo, that is. Not to be mistaken with a Finance Bro. God, no.
“Celebratory?” I ask. “What are we celebrating?” “Your new plan. The kid you’re growing. You, in general.”
A deeper part of me realizes, too, that I needed Bo. Someone who, from the moment I stuck out my hand, has understood me at a fundamental level that many people cannot. Someone kind, compassionate, hard-working, who believes in me.
I always feel a little shame longing for such nice things, but I still do. I think it’s a consequence of growing up with hand-me-downs and thrift store finds. Sometimes, I just want to blow money on things for me.
No shitty co-workers or mean customer service reps.” “That last one was very specific,” Bo says, pouring two cups of water from the bottle left on the table. “Brittany from Staples knows what she did.”
It’s so much easier to communicate insecurities when you don’t need to communicate them at all. Isn’t that all we ever want? To be seen and heard? Validated, even when we’re not able to ask for it.
Sometimes…things are just good things. I could spend my whole life waiting for the other shoe to drop, or I could begin training myself to expect the best. Embrace gratitude and drop the skepticism.
I’m pretty hopelessly in love with Bo at this point. Platonically, of course.
Perhaps that’s all Bo and I are. Two people leaving behind the worst, looking forward to the good to come.
“I’d do it all over again to be at that party,” he says. “To meet you. To get Gus.”
“You two walked in, and Bo looked toward the table where we set everything up. Then he checked in with you. A tilt of his head and a sweet little smile, then you nodded. He was getting permission to walk over there. That’s the look of a man on someone’s leash. Pussy-whipped!”
“So what?” I yell. “Are you in love with him?” “Yes!” Wait, what? “No!” I say, panic-stricken. “No, no, no—” But it’s too late. Sarah is up from her seat, slapping the desk with both palms like a drum.
“You’re perfect, Win,” Bo says, as easily as breathing. “Of course I’d want them to have every part of you.”
Let me in, I want to say amidst the silence. Love me. Trust me. I won’t let you down. I swear it.
“I’ve been talking about you to pretty much anyone who will listen for months,” he laughs out softly. “I thought you knew, Win. I thought it was so painfully obvious how I feel about you. What I want here. I thought that’s why you set such clear boundaries. I thought you didn’t feel the same.”
And I’m tired of being scared. I long to be loved by a man like Bo. I long to love him, the way he deserves.
I wish I had more hands.” I raise a brow, and he nods, his lips tight. “Heard it.”
“I love you, Win. I love you so much it makes me feel like I’ve hated everything else in my life up until now. Nothing compares to what I feel for you. Not even close.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” I say adamantly, nodding my head so he does the same. He smiles, tilting his lips toward my hand. “I know. I’m not allowed.” “Damn right,” I whisper, my voice wavering.
“You are my soul’s purpose, Win. To know you, to love you, to build a family with you, to spend every day taking care of you, to watch you shine and get all the good things you deserve out of this life.”
She’s smart like her father, her mother said quietly. She’s strong like her mother, her father said loudly to anyone who would listen.
“Is the phrase still ‘swept off your feet’ if you only have one? Swept off your foot? Swopt? No, that’s not a word.”
Yet another gift from the incredible woman I have the privilege to call mine.
For the past year I’ve found myself watching Win perform mundane, everyday tasks, feeling more entertained than I’ve ever been doing anything else. I could easily spend a lifetime watching Win from the sidelines and still be perfectly, contentedly happy at the end of my days.
Her smile is so bright, so joyful, so contagious, that I can’t help but begin laughing too.
My attention is held by the face of the one person I never thought I’d find, who looks so happy. The love of my life that I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to meet.
