I glance at my red dress and smile. Despite my mood, I will admit that I did have a little fun. It was a good escape for me. I close my eyes to try and fight off the sudden onset of a headache. Visually, I work on pleasant images and happy places.

I think about Sam and how she found an amazing dress that will blow Ben away and make him snap into his senses. He needs a good knocking on his ass. Watching them both try to avoid love motivates me more. They both need a happy ending. Mine will have to wait. My story is still being written. Or maybe it’s in rewrites.

I look at my red dress hung up on the closet door. I have to admit that I want it to affect Jack. It’s devious but hey, I’m not perfect. The thought of him getting stirred up and distracted excites me. I want him to want me and only me. Wanting someone is way more than just fucking them. It encompasses every fiber of you and who doesn’t want that?

My phone tweets and for a moment my heart skips, thinking it could be him. I reach for it and slowly turn it over. That’s when I see the notification and my finger can’t swipe fast enough.

Jack: I want you.

He wants me. He has said it before but this time seems different. There were no crazy declarations or hype. It was him and those three words. So for right now that’s enough for me.

I panic momentarily before I respond. It’s scary how much we are on the same wavelength. Wasn’t I just thinking about him wanting me? Our connection is unreal sometimes.

I’ve been a chicken-shit the last two days figuring out what to do next. I hid behind my books, work, shopping, and setting up. For me, it’s easier to avoid than complicate things and deal. But I never completely had him out of my mind. I carried his letter wherever I went.

The pages have gotten wrinkled and worn from my constant opening. I’ve reread it hundreds of time. Sometimes I find myself rubbing my fingers along it to feel closer to him. I reflect on the fact that he was vulnerable and let me in but that I couldn’t reciprocate. I thought taking some time was the right thing to do but, unfortunately, it just made me overthink. Too much processing is not the best idea because you find yourself in a continuous state of “what the fuck do I do”.

So I avoided and hoped that some great epiphany would occur and finally it did. Jack didn’t listen and reached out. It was the shove I needed to get unstuck.

Finally, I get my shit together and reply. It’s simple like his message but it’s telling him so much.

Jenny: I want you, too.

There. I did it. But it doesn’t feel adequate. He deserves more. Just like I do.

I sit down at my desk and ponder my next move. Looking at my notepad, I feel inspired to give back the gift he gave me. Words. My words. They’re a part of me and from deep within. They convey what I can’t always express verbally.

My words are my lifeline to him. Plus, it's very old-school-romantic-love-story stuff. It’s perfect and slows things down a bit. We jumped in so quickly that we forgot about the importance of telling each other about us. How we grew and changed as people. How instances and moments in our life affected and shaped us. My words will tell him my story and leave some blank lines for him to help me write the rest.

Smiling, I let my ideas drift and flow. I follow my mind’s ride and let it take me where it wants to go. Two words jump out at me.

Need and Want.

There’s a difference between I need you and I want you. I hope that I can convey that to him. They both are significant in any relationship, but understanding it and living it is what matters. I crave both.

I need Jack.

I want Jack.

I stare at the blankness of the page as my shaky hand holds my pen. My hope is that this is the start of a new chapter and we get to write the next one together.