I have no idea how long I sit on the edge of my bed holding his thoughts. It’s long enough to have my tears and fingers stain and wrinkle it. I have read it over and over again, examined each word, and analyzed each line. The only thought that pops into my head is, who is this man?

He continuously surprises me, but this goes above and beyond. I mean the guy can’t get a sentence out of his mouth without it being dirty. Now he writes me the most intimate letter I’ve ever read. I have no words. Me without words…it’s beyond comprehension.

Words are my thing, they breathe life into me. I never shut up…like, ever. I always have something to say and have no problem expressing myself. However, for the first time in my life, I can’t talk. My words are useless to me. Jack has taken them, made them his own, and returned them to me.

He buried his feelings so long ago. He grew up with a mother who was emotionally unstable and a father who treated them all like garbage. He learned to conceal himself and developed a façade that made his life uncomplicated and easy to live. This turned him into an asshole with no care of whom or what he did along the way.

He slept with a lot of women, never having a meaningful relationship, and only letting someone see so much. Except me. Jack was different with me. He let me in when no one was around. He was light and laughter to me, making me smile even when I didn’t want to. He knew how to get to me. Obviously, he still does.

Boy, did he get to me.

This letter is from the boy I used to know and the man he’s becoming. There must be more inside there waiting to be set free…by me. The problem is he scares every ounce of me. He makes me think and feel more than anyone ever has. It’s exhausting to realize you have met your match in every possible way.

I stare at the letter again as I lie back on my bed, my feet hanging off the side. I clutch it to my chest and let the tears flow. Who knew I had so many to shed? I knew he had the power to break me, but I was hoping he wouldn’t.

* * *

I hear a soft tap on my door. My groggy eyes blink to open. Clearly, I fell asleep in the most awkward position. My back tries to lift up as my legs stay motionless. The pins and needles from their dead weight make it challenging to move. Using my hands, I gain momentum as I yell for whoever is on the other side of my door to come in.

Frantically, I place my letter under my ass. This is mine and no one else’s. I’m not ready to share it when I barely understand it. Love isn’t easy and it sucks.

Sam enters with a weird look on her face. Clearly, my slumber must have carried through her date with Ben. If there’s one thing I know about Sam is that she doesn’t trust in love easily and I can see it in her expression.

“Ok, spill it, Sammy. You look all distraught and shit.”

I watch her inhale sharply before spilling. She carries on about finding a happy ending and that she’s not sure she can give Ben her heart. I sit and listen and totally get it. He’s been so hot and cold with her.

“Ben feels as scared as you do. He has no idea what to do with his feelings. The two of you need to get out of your own way. I can tell you to be patient and hang in there but I would be a hypocrite. The truth is I’m as fucked up as you both are.”

“Awww, Jenny, don’t say that. If I can follow my heart, then you can, too. We have to have faith at some point in our lives. Right?”

She scoots in closer to me and grabs a hold of my hand. “If I’m going to swim in the deep end, then you can, too. So let’s tread water together. There’s no reason to do it alone. We’ve always had each other’s backs so why stop now.”

She’s right. My mind drifts to the beautiful letter that’s being warmed under my ass. I should tell her about it, but I can’t. Saying it out loud, it becomes all too real. As much as I want to jump into this mess, my heart isn’t there yet. I think I need more time. My only hope is that I won’t be too late.

I squeeze her hand as an attempt at solidarity but it’s a lame one.

“You know we’ve always had plenty of things to distract us. I had my books and you had your movies. Perhaps we glamorized it too much and made it too complex. We set the bar too high and limited ourselves. I mean, love shouldn’t be that hard…at least, I don’t think it should be.”

Sam shrugs her shoulders and decides to take a swipe at me with a pillow. This in turn leads to several profanities and whacks. We joke as we discuss how pathetic we are and start a pillow fight when my mom walks in.

She looks at us like we’re crazy, and well, we are at times. That’s how we role. “Ah. Okay. Well, I wanted to tell you that breakfast is ready. Oh, and keep tomorrow open for the ball setup. Come down when you’re ready.”

My mom heads back to the door, pauses, and turns back to us. Obviously, she overheard some of our conversation. “Now listen, I know I’m older and have been married for almost thirty years, but I do have some advice.” We both pop up and sit on the edge of the bed. This is one I need to hear. “Love is a beautiful thing. It fills you up unlike anything you’ve ever known or experienced. It can be effortless and challenging all at the same time. But what it really comes down to, I believe, is letting someone else in. Letting them see all of you. Not just the tiny, superficial things, but what’s buried underneath. When you can do that and accept each other’s everything, then nothing can stop you.” She bends down and takes one hand in each of hers. “Sam, you make Ben smile again.” She switches her gaze to me. “Jenny, get your head out of your books and let someone in.” Standing up, she heads for the door, turning around to look at us before exiting. “Fall in love, girls. I mean really fall in love. Let them see everything.”

Her words are simple, yet profound. How she explains love so matter-of-factly is astounding to me. Letting someone all the way in is friggin’ frightening. My eyes blink rapidly as I try to regain composure of my thoughts. My mind turns to Jack and how I want to show him everything, give him everything. On some level I’ve already started, but halted it as quickly as it began. There’s also this nagging feeling that it may be too late for us. Or maybe just me.

The letter said all the right things but sometimes words and actions aren’t enough. Sometimes two people are so lost that there is no hope for them. Their journey ends before it really even began. I wonder if our excess baggage is too heavy a load for either of us to carry. I look up at my mom who must see the wheels turning in my head.

I need to play it cool because I really don’t want to get into Jack right now. It’s too mentally draining, and my energy is zapped. But I know I need to say something. “Great advice as usual, Mom. But I’m okay right now. There’s someone out there for me. I just haven’t met him yet.”

That’s when she hits me with her knowing look. “Maybe you already have, sweetie.” With that, she leaves the room. Damn, she’s good. I try to play the naïve idiot, but I’m sure it comes out unconvincing.

“What do you think she means by that? Believe me, any guy I’ve already met or dated is not my ‘one.’” My hands do the air quotes around the one as if emphasizing my nonchalance.

Sam gets off the bed and heads to the door. “I don’t know, girl. Your mom’s a wise woman. Keep your eyes open and out of your books.” She then smacks me in the arm and declares it’s time to eat as she walks out.

Ok, seriously, what the fuck just happened? My mom defined love with such effortlessness. Like it’s no big deal. Perhaps it is that easy. Maybe I just need to let things develop. We’ve already started. Why stop now? I won’t and I can’t.