Clandestine Confessions

I had just gotten into my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot.
There to pick up quintessential items for my guest: pickles, frozen pizza, and a broom.
It was one of the most life giving carts.
One I filled up while listening to a customized playlist I made for him that would play throughout his visit.
It is always my hope whenever people are in my presence that they feel seen.
And I have learned it is often the littlest acts that make the biggest impact in that pursuit.
–
He had texted me earlier in the morning.
“How is the apartment furnishing going?”
“Good! I have a ¾ built tv stand, a chair, and bar stools. Couch should arrive sometime this week. You will have to come by sometime!”
“I wouldn’t mind coming by this afternoon. Unless you think it’s not ready yet. Haha.”
“If we wait until we are ready for anything, nothing will ever happen! I would love for you to come by!”
“I have some errands to run but maybe around 2 I can come by?”
–
He would be the first person to visit my apartment, to catch a glimpse of my life here in Utah.
My move was still a secret to the rest of the world at the time.
And it only seemed fitting for him to be the holder of the first look, for the sharing of this life with him to precede the telling of its existence to anyone else.
Afterall, he was the one used to lead me here…
–
It would be while plugging the charger into my phone I would see the message he sent me a few minutes prior.
“Have you eaten lunch yet?” it read.
I truly have no recollection of the last time someone asked me that question…
“I have not!” I replied.
Immediately my phone rang.
–
“Hey! I am at Pretty Bird. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?”
It is one of my favorite restaurants near Salt Lake – one made even more meaningful as the holder of a sacred memory from my birthday this last year.
“That would be amazing! I would absolutely love a sandwich.”
“Spice level?”
“The hottest.”
“No idea how you do it,” he said with a laugh. “Alright, going to order, and I will see you in 30.”
We hung up, and I was instantly in tears – ones right at the surface from the second I answered the phone.
Fighting hard to escape with every word I spoke.
–
I knew logically this was my new life.
For I was actively living it and creating it.
But something about that phone call turned the knowing into a feeling.
Shutting me off autopilot and allowing the gravity of the reality this was my life to take over.
Opening up my heart to a deep awe and appreciation over all it took to land me here.
Not just “here” as in Utah but “here” as in allowing a friend to order me a sandwich that I would sit and eat with him – sans fear and anxiety and shame and obsession.
A place I have never since left…
–
It was not long after I got home that he would call again.
“Hey, so I only see G, no F.”
“Alright, let me come down and see if I can find you.”
I was half toppling over as I tried to quickly put my shoes on one handed, my other occupied holding the phone.
Doing that little hop movement in attempt to keep my balance but still ultimately falling into the wall.
Laughing internally at the spectacle I was creating.
With my excitement running out of patience, I settled for running out the door with shoes half on.
“What are you currently walking towards?” I say, trying to gauge where he is.
“Are my footsteps really that loud?”
“Haha. I could perhaps hear the shuffling through the phone.”
It was the same sound I picked up on when in Park City with him back in August.
Both times giving my heart the same response…
–
Joy.
–
Guaranteed nobody else would have even heard it.
But it was one to which I was sensitive.
One I grew up hearing.
It was nostalgic, familiar, comforting…
–
It was the exact same way my sister used to walk.
–
(Which explains why all the shoes of hers I received after her passing were only worn down at the soles – the rest perfectly intact.)
–
I felt her closer than ever, as if she was walking down that hall right alongside me.
Guiding me as she has done my entire life.
“Go have fun Roody,” I could hear her say while tousling the back of my hair. “Don’t do anything your sissy would do.”
–
She had always been more protective over my own heart than I was.
From the very start of my introduction to love…