I’VE INDULGED IN A LATTE with whipped cream today. Maeve and Kayla are chatting away and I try to pay attention but I just can’t focus. I can’t stop thinking about him, about our conversation, his eyes, his beautiful smile.

How did this happen? How did I go from being a somewhat happy married normal mom raising her kids and living her life, to become so confused and tortured, my stomach constantly in knots. A complete mess, really. I’ve lost my appetite and I can’t sleep.

I shake my head. The whole thing is absolutely ridiculous — it was just a few messages, and one conversation, for crying out loud. Why am I making such a big deal out of it? What I need to do is just ignore him, but it’s too late for that – that would be too hurtful.

“What do you think, Gabs?” Kayla is asking. I have absolutely no clue what she’s talking about.

“Uh, sorry,” I say. “I’m out of it today… what were you asking?”

Kayla eyes me with a concerned expression. “What’s up with you? We were just talking about the dinner for the wedding… vegetarian options.”

“Oh… well, I always like a nice vegetable lasagna,” I offer. I’m not much of a vegetarian — I’m a meat eater, through and through. “Isn’t that your expertise, Kayla?”

The doorbell clangs loudly as Corrie finally makes her appearance. She’s a tiny, tiny woman, but larger than life. “Hey, ladies?! What’s up?!”

“Just talking about the menu for the reception,” Maeve tells her.

Corrie rolls her eyes. “Oh, enough talk about the wedding, already. It’s getting a bit old.”

Maeve pulls a face, visibly hurt. “Yeah… sure.”

Corrie settles her rear on the empty chair, completely clueless. She can be the sweetest thing, but she is pretty snarky sometimes, and she has no clue that her words can be offensive at times.

“Geez, way to rain on your friend’s parade, Corrie,” Kayla says, smiling. “You’re just jealous.” she teases.

“Totally,” Corrie admits. “Oh, to be young and in love again…”

“What?” Kayla asks. “You and Jacob are not in love anymore? You could have fooled me.”

Corrie and her husband, Jacob, are in the middle of a separation, but they still keep ending up in bed together.

“Oh, that ship sailed a long time ago,” Corrie admits.

“But you guys still have sex all the time,” I point out. I don’t know why I say this exactly, but she always talks about her sexual escapades — she’s very open that way. I, on the other hand, am pretty buttoned up when it comes to that stuff. The girls probably think John and I only do it in missionary with the lights off. Hardly ever.

“Well, I am at my sexual prime,” she says. “I just have no control these days.”

We all smile and nod. Corrie and her husband had been trying for a while to have children, but no luck. Corrie wanted to consider the next step — fertility treatments, but Jacob decided that he didn’t want kids after all, that it was all too stressful.

Corrie goes to fetch herself a cup of coffee while we dig out our notebooks and pens out of our purses and satchels. My notebook has a reproduction of Van Gogh’s Midnight Café painting on the cover, and gold edged paper — it was a gift from John. Maeve’s is a large notebook with a kitten and polka dots, something a child might doodle in. Kayla’s journal is a hardcover, spiral bound, pink and green, with a bohemian design.

Corrie sets her cup of coffee on the small table, and pulls out her sleek red leather bound notebook — it looks expensive, but I prefer Maeve’s, which must have only cost about two dollars.

“So, who has anything to read today?!” Maeve asks. Out of the four of us, Maeve is the most serious about our journaling club. She always insists that at least one of us read. “It can’t be all chatting and goofing around,” she always says.

I clear my throat. “I… I have something.”

“Me too,” Kayla chimes in.

I smile at her. “You go first,” I suggest. Thank god, I hate being the first to read.

Kayla reads her latest entry. Her voice is so soft and soothing — it makes me want to lay down, fall asleep and dream. Her poetry and ramblings generally center on nature and the earth, and spirituality. She is in sync with the world on a primal level, unlike any of the rest of us are, unlike most of this generation. We’re all stuck to our laptops, devices, and phones. Binging on Netflix, shopping, soaking up our man-made world. How many of us take the time to enjoy the simplest basic elements of life?

Her words are beautiful. This one is about the peace and tranquility of the lake at her family cottage. Every time she writes about the cottage, it makes me eager to go there again.

When my turn comes, I’m a little nervous, as usual. I start off slow, and try to make my words sound as lovely as Kayla’s.

I think of you.

Too much.

When I wake, at breakfast, in the afternoon, at night.

When I lay down my head.

I see you.

Too often.

In my thoughts, in my dreams.

When I look at the sky.

When I listen to music.

When I smile.

You don’t belong there.

In my thoughts.

You don’t fit in my life.

And your colors are too bright.

You make me happy.

You make me feel alive.

Yet my picture has already been painted.

And although you are beautiful.

You are nowhere in it.

I clear my throat, anxiously awaiting their feedback.

“Wow, you are quite the little poetess these days, Gabs,” Corrie teases. “That was great.”

Maeve reaches for her latte. “Yeah, really nice.”

“Kind of intense,” Kayla adds.

Corrie cocks a brow. “So… what was your inspiration?”

Damn, she’s always so nosy. “I don’t know… life, I guess.”

Corrie lifts her coffee to her lips. “It’s not about that Internet guy, I hope.”

“No, no, no,” I say, shaking my head. I’m such a liar — it’s totally about him. But I’d feel really ridiculous admitting that. “It’s just random.”

“Are you still in touch with him?” Kayla asks, curious.

The last time we’d spoken of him was when I showed them the picture of him and his dog. I haven’t mentioned him since. “Well…”

“Well, what?!” Corrie blurts. “You know he’s a fake, right?! He’s just playing you, sweetie.”

She gets to me. The way she says ‘sweetie’, so condescending. Is it so hard to believe that some hot guy might like me? Just because I’m not tiny and blonde like her, and I don’t wear five inch stiletto pumps like her, doesn’t mean…

“Well, he looked pretty damn real when we video chatted last night,” I scoff. The words just come out — I hadn’t meant to spill. Damn, me and my mouth.

Slacked jaws all around. They can’t believe their ears. “You video chatted?!” Corrie says, mouth still hanging — it’s more of a statement than a question.

I bite my bottom lip. “Yes,” I say meekly. I know, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Maeve is wide-eyed. “So what did you talk about? Was he as hot in real life?”

I smile, remembering the conversation. “Just life… and stuff. We were being a little silly.”

Corrie smirks. “Silly… is that what we’re calling it these days? By silly, do you mean sexy?!”

I shake my head. “No, no, no. It wasn’t anything like that. He was a perfect gentleman.”

“Where was John during this little video chat liaison?” Corrie asks.

Sheesh… she’s such a drama queen sometimes, always making a mountain out of a molehill.

“He was at a conference… again,” I say sharply. “And it wasn’t a liaison. We talked about our mothers, actually,” I tell them. “His mom passed away too.”

“I’m not sure this is a great idea, Gabbie,” Kayla chimes in, her tone as soft as always. “This guy is gorgeous, and you are having intimate chats… conversations John doesn’t know about, I assume. Have you even told him about this guy?!”

Not her too. I feel like they’re all ganging up on me. “C’mon, he lives in Denmark, for crying out loud, and it was just a conversation.”

“It always starts with a conversation,” Corrie points out.

“It does,” Maeve agrees.

Ugh.

I know they’re right. They’re completely right. I need to end this.

“You’re right,” I finally concede. “But I need this… this friendship, whatever the hell this is.”

I stare down at my latte, unable to face any of them — what must they all think about me? My heart sinks at the thought of saying goodbye to Eli. I don’t want to hurt him, and I know I’ll miss him. He’s a nice person — this, I know deep in my heart, all the more reason to end this. If I’m not careful, I might just fall in love with him.