Petals and Plot Twists (Only Magic in the Building)

by Jenny Proctor

If my life were a romantic comedy, I’m not sure I’d be the main character. I have more of a quirky sidekick vibe. Bubbly, supportive personality. Big hair. A treasure trove of funny anecdotes—mostly dating mishaps—to make the main character feel good about her own life and prospects. I do want to fall in love. More than anything. I just haven’t figured out the secret. I haven’t figured out how to capture that main character energy. Or maybe the problem is that I haven’t found my hero. If he’s even out there at all.

“Maybe the guy you’re supposed to be with isn’t on a dating app. Maybe he’s someone you already know.” He lifts a hand and hooks it around the back of his neck. “Someone you work with, maybe. Or…I don’t know. Someone you met in school.”

Which is why, when all evidence indicates my emotions will not be returned, it makes no logical sense for me to be in love with my best friend.

I don’t mind talking to people. But I’m generally comfortable with my own company, so I don’t often think about putting myself out there.

Allison reads a lot of romance novels, and so does Sophie. Maybe I could borrow a few and read them as a means of collecting data—see if I can come up with some clear methodology. If I’m going to risk our friendship by asking for more, I have to do it right.

The more I think about my future, the more I’m coming to accept the uncomfortable reality that if I am ever going to fall in love with someone else, Sophie’s going to have to break my heart first. And that won’t ever happen if I don’t try.

Though I cannot prove as much, my personal feeling is the flower appears when it’s needed. When lonely hearts need a helping hand or lovers need a nudge in the right direction.

“I can always count on you, can’t I?” she says, her smile warm. I smile back. She has no idea how much.

I already had crème brûlée at the restaurant, and I don’t need a second dessert. But I do need to feed my denial. And what better way to do that than brownies?

It’s funny. As much as I was struggling to fall asleep before, with Sophie beside me, it’s only a matter of minutes before I drift off as well.

That man has shown you every single day how amazing it could be if you would let him love you. You already know everything the flower can tell you. You know he’s good and kind and decent and worthy of your love.”

I understand what she’s saying, but she grew up in a house with parents who love each other, who modeled healthy, happy devotion. I grew up with an absentee father, a criminal stepfather, and a mom who deals with her losses through compulsive serial dating. I wish I knew how to trust my own heart, but if I have a security blanket, I’m going to use it.