phone out and send him a quick message like I often do.
Me: I just smiled at your silly grin that stares at me every day on my desk.
Placing my phone down face up, waiting for a response, I log into my computer, finding a full inbox. It’s going to be a long day.
My first email is from Cali, though.
Miss you, lady. Tyler sent you another letter full of drawings yesterday. You should have it in a couple of days. She misses her auntie. How’s Boston today? Cold? Freezing? Is it below zero? It’s eighty here, just saying. You must be cold. You must miss the heat. You must miss me too. Okay, well, enjoy your hot Boston coffee and your knee high boots, and your scarf, and your chapped lips. Love you.
For someone who so badly wanted me to venture off into the world on my own, she hasn’t let a day go by where she hasn’t tried to convince me to come back. Shortly after I arrived in Boston, she informed me that Landon had been arrested, but not for anything he did to me or us. We don’t have the full story, but it sounds like he robbed something or someone. Whatever it was, he’s in for life. Part of me wonders if Cali, Tango, and/or Jags had something to do with his arrest, but I’m pretty sure I won’t ever know—the three of them are in a league of their own.
My phone vibrates with a return message from Jags:
Jags: I miss your pretty smile.
I take my phone and snap a picture of just my smiling mouth and send it to him.
Me: How’s that?
Jags: It’ll do I guess.
Since I left, we’ve maintained something, but I’m not sure what. I don’t know if he’s dating or doing what Jags does best, and if he is, we don’t talk about it. But I chose this path.
Me: You don’t sound like Jags today.
Jags: Sorry, I’ve got a lot going on. Bambi’s been a mess this week with her niece being back in rehab again.
Me: Poor thing. I thought she was doing better?
Jags: Yeah, her parents showed up and ruined that.
Me: Tell Greta I send my best, and I’ll make sure to send her another box of cannolis from the North End soon.
Jags: You’ve made a best friend because of those cannolis. You know she questions my motives every time I open the fridge at home? I’m watching my weight, though, and she knows that, but still doesn’t trust me.
I try to forget that they live together now. My mind still wanders, but what right do I have to ask questions when I’m the one who left? Sometimes, though, I feel like part of my heart stayed back in Texas, and I wonder if this was a mistake I’m forcing myself to pay the consequence for. I know I needed this, and I still need it, and I know I love it here, but I love someone back there too. And if he’s living with someone he’s that close to, and she’s as beautiful as Greta is, I can’t expect everything to continue going my way forever. That would be selfish, and how could I do that with how selfless Jags has been for the past year.
Me: Well, I miss my best friend.
Jags: You miss Bambi?
Me: Jackass.
Jags: God, I love it when you talk dirty.
Me: Soooo…I was thinking about maybe coming to visit next week. Will you be around?
Jags: Wherever you find yourself, I’ll be there. I told you that a year ago.
What I really want to ask is, do you still love me? Do you miss me like that? Have you moved on? Will I be the third wheel? Did I make a really big mistake? The odds to all of those questions being no are so slim, so it’s making me truly debate if I should go out there.
I miss him so much it hurts, though. While I don’t know if there’s anything left of us now, I’m grateful we stayed connected this past year, even if it was nothing more than joking text messages and lame updates on how many times a day he poops. Even with those lovely thoughts, I miss his smiles and the way the whole room shakes when he laughs hard at something.
I came out here to find myself, and I have a little, but I’ve mostly found that the best parts of me are things I only feel when I’m with Jags, and I’m