The Girl He Used to Know(38)
Keeping to myself, where I knew what to expect, was often much easier.
“Are you lonely?” Jonathan asks.
How could I tell him that my loneliness was crushing? How it felt awful to be lonely but not know how to reach out to people and fill the time I always had too much of? It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being alone, because I did, and could spend hours on solitary endeavors like reading or going for long walks without ever wishing for human companionship. I could visit the animals at the shelter or write another play for the children to perform. But sometimes I craved the presence of someone else, especially if I could be myself. A single father lived in my apartment building and occasionally, when he had his six-year-old daughter for the weekend and something unexpected happened that required his presence elsewhere, I would watch her. I relished it immensely and secretly wished he needed me to watch her more. The last time she was here, we spent two hours making paper dolls, and it was one of the most satisfying afternoons I’d had in a long time.
Shortly after Ryan and I broke up, I returned to the solitude I normally enjoyed, appreciating the simplicity of my life because I no longer had to walk on eggshells around a man. But now that time had passed, the loneliness had started reappearing like a growing tidal wave in the distance. I could feel it building and when it finally reached me, I would spend the rest of the day or night restless and fighting tears. It would eventually pass, but the episodes were becoming more frequent. I tried to fill my days with more social interaction, but that only left me feeling overwhelmed and exhausted. A personal connection with someone was what I craved the most. Someone who understood my needs and was willing to speak my language.
Someone like Jonathan.
I avert my eyes as I answer him. “I don’t mind spending time alone, but sometimes I do get very lonely.”
Jonathan leans over and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close as I fight back tears. “Not everyone can look past their own hang-ups to see what I see. It’s their loss.”
When Jonathan said things like that, it propped me up and took away a little of the sting from the people who’d tried to tear me down or make me feel like a second-class citizen because I viewed things differently than they did. Ten years ago, I might not have been clear on what Jonathan was saying, but that had changed. Tina had taught me that it was important to surround myself with people who understood me. People who were secure about their own place in the world. It wasn’t always easy to identify who those people were, but I was much better at it now than I had been in the past.
Around nine, Jonathan tells me he’d better get back to work. I yawn because now I’m really tired. I would never make it if I had to work late as often as Jonathan did.
“Want me to tuck you in before I head back to work?”
“Does that mean sex?” I blurt it out without thinking.
He laughs. “Well, that would be a fantastic send-off, but I really do have to get back.”
My face flames, and I hang my head. I thought for sure I’d gotten it right. “I’m so embarrassed.”
“You shouldn’t be. You seemed awfully open to the possibility.”
When we reach the doorway, he slides his hand behind my head and places a gentle kiss on my mouth. Then he presses me up against the wall and kisses me again, harder this time. No one else’s kisses have ever affected me the way Jonathan’s do. There is a gentleness about them that makes me feel safe, but there is something else now, an urgency. He twists his fingers in my hair, and we kiss for a while. I’m breathless when we finish.
“Ryan wasn’t a very good kisser. Neither was Monte. Not like you.”
Jonathan smiles like what I said made him happy.
“What did it mean?” I ask. I don’t want to get my hopes up, because maybe the kiss doesn’t mean anything.
“It means I’ve missed you. It means I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.”
“Are we still going slow?”
He looks into my eyes and I hold his gaze for as long as I’m able before looking down at the floor. “I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to go slow anymore.”
“I’ll be thinking about that kiss for the rest of the night,” I say.
“Me too,” he says, and then I lock the door behind him.
20
Annika
THE UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN
1991
Several volunteers were huddled together talking when I arrived for my shift at the wildlife clinic. Sue was standing with them. “Hey, Annika. Can I talk to you?”
“Hi, Sue. I can only talk for a second because I want to check on Charlie.” They’d removed the opossum’s splint and had started planning for his release back into the wild. I’d become very attached and would miss him horribly.
Sue laid her hand on my arm, which didn’t really bother me because I liked her and she only left it there briefly. “I’m so sorry, but Charlie died. He got sick overnight, very rapidly. I know he was special to you.”
I couldn’t stay there, could not bear the thought of such a tiny living thing suffering the way Charlie must have before he died. I turned on my heel and ran out the door into the cold evening air. Had Charlie taken his last breaths in his cage, or had someone been holding him? I hadn’t thought to ask Sue these questions, and they haunted me now. I pictured his injured arm in its tiny little sling, and I burst into tears.