Clandestine Confessions

“So, you have been here about a year now. Planning on leaving again soon?”

The member was standing at the desk in the studio back in May when he asked.

I always look forward to his arrival – 7:48am on the dot every weekday. He allots himself a few extra minutes for him and I to connect personally before others begin showing up.

He has become rather intrigued by my life – through the little snippets I share from time to time.

He has become one of the select few to become privy to my clandestine quest of writing a book.

“What is it about?” he asked immediately after my disclosure.

“The life and times of J,” I replied. The smirk that accompanied the words an indicator of the secretive nature of what that topic entailed.

“That’s all I get?!?” he joked. “Well, that just leaves me even more inclined to buy it immediately.”

–

A couple weeks after I told him I am a writer, he surprisingly gifted me six books compiled of various short stories his mom wrote during his childhood and beyond.

It was one of the greatest honors to receive these coveted collections of her life tales – the grief, the joy, the struggles, the victories. The tears instantaneously fell when I walked into the studio on a Saturday to see them sitting on top of the keyboard.

“For inspiration,” he said after he came out of class. “Just keep what you learn about me through them between us,” he followed up with a laugh.

To be entrusted with one’s transparency is a gift I never take for granted.

–

And now there we were at this desk with his question presenting me the opportunity to offer the privilege back to him.

But how much was I ready to expose…?

–

“For the first time in my life I can say I am rooted somewhere. Normally I always know upon arrival to a place that it would just be a rest stop. Utah is different. Utah is home.”

“Have you ever seen the movie Chocolat? With Johnny Depp?”

“Of course. One of my favorites.”

“You remind me so much of that woman. How she would go wherever the north wind took her.”

“That right there is so much of why I love the movie. I always could very much connect with her. I was always on the run. Now if only….” I paused briefly to contemplate letting my heart slip out of hiding. It is safer to display the independent, content woman who thrives in boldly living life alone. That is the reputation my story of a cross country road trip (and subsequent move) has garnered. There is great vulnerability in releasing the alternate version…the lonely woman very much tired of doing life by herself and terrified that this is her fate forever.

I opt to let it speak.

“If only I could find my Johnny,” I released a little chuckle to cover up the sorrow and longing that laced that sentence.

“No need to worry about that,” the member responded gently. His tone now softened having evidently picked up on my heartache. “He is out there. And he will be one even better than Mr. Depp.”

One person came to mind.

Well, let me rephrase that. Because let’s be honest, he never leaves my thoughts.

One person’s presence moved more prominently to the forefront of my mind. Truly just back to where he was prior to me getting distracted by this conversation.

I slipped back into my almost constant state of prayer for him – trusting that surely God has heard at least one of them in the past two years.

“See you in a bit!” he said with a tap of his hand on the desk. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Always!”

For a reason I could not yet pinpoint, my response did not feel all too truthful…

–

He walked into class, and as the door closed, I glanced down at my phone.

A couple Facebook messages were received during our dialogue.

From someone very much not my Johnny…

The all too familiar anxiety rushed through my body – adrenaline now coursing through my veins.

I stood there frozen, contemplating if I even wanted to know what they said.

How much more damage was even left to be done?

“Stay out of trouble…” I could hear repeating in my head.

I took a deep breath and opened the app.

–

First message: “I just found your shoes…”

He was referring to THE shoes. The ones I have previously written about in one of these stories. The ones I gifted one Christmas to represent my promise I was done running. The ones I have been aching to have back one day.

Truthfully, the ONLY things I ever wanted in my possession again from that time of life.

The “just” part screamed untruthful to me. As if he would not have seen them when moving a year ago into his new house…

But deception has become the standard, not the exception in any conversations with him. So, I expected nothing different.

Second message: “What do you want me to do with them?”

–

There is a former version of myself that would have read this message and felt grief over the situation.

That would have felt compassion for the circumstance.

That would have felt empathy for how he must have felt “just” finding them.

And those emotions would have led me to respond with “whatever you feel is best.”

–

But I do not exist as her anymore.

Which, by the way, was a hard-fought battle of literal blood and tears to release her from my present. There was a loyalty to her I was scared to break.

But I had to accept that even if her presence contributed immensely to where I am (and who I am) today, her love for everything that destroyed her was wreaking havoc on where (and who) I wanted to be.

It was not sustainable nor beneficial to my future to remain as her.  

So rather quickly I replied.

“Can you please send them back? I will Venmo you the shipping cost.”

Seconds later.

“I’ll see what I can do…”

Rather unfortunately (but once again unsurprisingly) this was followed by an “incentive” to turn that answer into a definitive yes.

I asked him to be realistic.

He said he was.

I stood there in tears of simultaneous sadness and anger. Please…just for once, see me. Hear me.

“It would mean more to me than I could properly express if I could have them back.”

And that is where that conversation left off…

–

I feel like I was setting myself up for disappointment to request them back. But for reasons unknown, a part of me still anticipated the man I once knew to show back up.

I still held onto hope he would return as a man of honor and truth.

I still had faith I would own those shoes once more…

–

Now, if I was not a firm believer in all things working out for the good, I could leave this story with this ending.

We could all just accept the fate of the shoes and count my losses.

But, staying true to my character, I was never going to be satisfied with anything but a happily ever after.

So that is what I gave myself.

–

It was July when I embraced the knowing I would never see those shoes again.

I stopped quickly checking every email that came in to see if it was a notification I had a package to pick up.

I stopped waiting on a response from him to let me know he sent them.

I stopped relying on him to give me my closure.

I stopped holding on to a fantasy.

–

And with that acceptance came what I actually needed back this whole time.

Because it was never about the shoes…

–

What my heart truly ached for was approval to surrender.

To get my future back.

For wasn’t that what those shoes symbolized from the start? Me committing to living in a healed, whole future…one from which I did not need to run…?

And the way in which he responded to the cry of my heart, with intentional neglect and carelessness, gave me that permission.

It was enough for me to say this is enough.

And on a Sunday morning while sitting at Starbucks, I wrote my goodbye letter to him and kindly requested for him to never contact me again.

Three paragraphs compiled in 5 minutes – the most effortlessly I have ever written.

My mind knew it was time.

My heart knew I was ready.

And I knew I was never safer to let it all go…the heartache, the pain, the anger, the shame, the fear…all the things that had me running from love…the right love…

And with that came a decision I never foresaw myself ever making…

Eliminating him entirely from my book of life. Resolving to leave him in the past once and for all, only a memory very few in this world will know I once lived. Never again making mention of his presence.

–

I was done living in the pain of a homesick heart.

It was time to unhinderedly start walking to where I belong.

With the faith there is a Mr. Depp waiting for me there…