Clandestine Confessions

“John Mayer is on tour.”
My friend said it completely out of nowhere. No context. Nothing said before it to make those words fit into the conversation. Zero external signs to point to this being the next topic of discussion.
But mind you, I caught her completely off guard that morning in the studio with his visit.
It was already going amusingly downhill after the initial handshake with the sanitizer wipes in her hand.
“Why did I do that?!? Who am I?!? I never just shake someone’s hand!” she said to me in a fit of laughter after he left.
“Welcome to my world,” I joked, recollecting on my inability to actually form words with him…Salt Flats. All I had to say.
I will never let myself live that phone call down.
“Also, if it makes you feel better, I have no idea what I actually said to him for the first five minutes.”
–
Him being him just went along with it – perhaps internally questioning how in the world we landed on the random subject of John but never revealing it in his countenance or inflection.
“Oh really? Is he coming to Salt Lake?”
“Well that I don’t know.” (Adding to the hilarity of this interaction was that she very much did know as we have been talking about it for months.) “But Jenna went to see him in Denver.”
I very well could have been more confused than him at this point as to where this was headed…
He immediately turned my way, gave a lopsided smirk with eyebrow raised, the right side doing all the expressing.
“Did you tell me about that?”
I did…amidst the conversation about the book we both wanted (now in his possession as of that morning) and how it was also available on CD.
And both of us reaching the conclusion we would only be able to listen to it in the car – our Walkmans now relics in our childhood homes.
Which I then used to segway into mentioning I took an unexpectedly long road trip to Denver recently when that could have come in handy.
“Briefly. Remember I told you about the horrible drive through…”
My words stopped short.
Recalling the many sentences that were also encapsulated in that text.
Those of an admission.
At that point a bit past 22 months overdue of being spoken to him.
My deepest regret revealed.
–
He never responded to it – to my relief.
It helped that I strategically sent a song immediately after to aid in the curation of that outcome.
But now I was about to risk him remembering that text, drawing more attention to my confession in my confirmation of the concert.
I said nothing further.
My friend, picking up on my voice trailing off, resumed where I ended.
“She drove through a horrendous snowstorm all through the night for that concert. Just to get back for work. Passionate in all she does.” A two second pause followed. “Oh, did you get your book?!”
She motioned towards his hand.
Thank goodness for the diversion.
We were inching far too close for my comfort on a subject I am not too sure was emotionally safe to address while standing in the middle of the studio…
–
“I did. Excited to read it. I mentioned wanting to buy it and next thing I know she lets me know she already did.”
“That’s Jenna for you. Will do anything for those she cares about.”
“Yeah…” I could feel his eyes on me again, but I was too nervous to return the gaze. The smile I could see out of the corner of my vision – soft, slight, thankful… “That she does.”
His tone was gentle, said without straying from his stare.
So, he has noticed…
Perhaps he sees more than I realize.
Feels more than I recognize.
Which increases the odds he actually read the entirety of that text…
–
“…I realized I never got to thank you for your offer that evening to stay so I didn’t have to drive through the night. It was something that meant a lot to me and something I wish I took you up on…”
–
I sent it on my couch late in the evening, only the TV illuminating the room.
My hands shaking, a heart racing, and a mind praising me for finally releasing the words.
Those that have been haunting me every single day since the moment I walked out the hotel doors late in the evening on May 28th.
He had presented it again while standing in the lobby before saying our final goodbye…
“You sure you are going to be okay? What I offered on the dance floor still stands.”
“Positive. I’ll just blare a lot of Whitney Houston and sing if I get tired.”
“Ha, how is it that I can so picture you actually doing that?”
–
Although, it would not be Whitney Houston that played.
It would be the song that rewrote the script…on repeat for the entire 3 hour and 30 minute drive.
The surge of adrenaline in the reminiscing of the memories was enough to keep me up well into the morning.
Kept company by one pestering thought…
What could have been had I said yes…?
–
The next two years would add more questions to the collection.
How long am I going to linger in the what if?
When will I let my emotions be known?
At what point do I give love my yes and risk it all?
–
This is not unknown territory for me.
An untold tale of my life is that I have boldly revealed my heart before to another.
Interestingly enough he just so happened to appear in my dream the other night.
With my sister…