Page 69 of Five Days in July
22
LENORE
Matt is deceptively strong because he’s been toting that backpack around like it weighed nothing. He was right; the hiking trail is more like a walk with occasional obstacles, but we have been walking for a long time.
I study the picnic he’s laid out and then him. He’s really trying here, which is not something I’m used to, or feeling like I deserve it. My heart thumps at the thought of what I need to tell him and the fact that he might walk away.
If he notices my internal struggles, he doesn’t show it. He helps me sit down and folds himself onto the open spot across from me, handing me one of the neatly wrapped sandwiches. I peek inside before taking a bite, finding meat, cheese, some kind of sauce, and even lettuce. He definitely made these at home. Knowing he threw all of this together, fixed my car, picked flowers, and did whatever else he needed to get done makes me feel pampered.
He and I have both admitted we care, and I know for him, this is a level of trying he doesn’t usually commit to. Plus, he’s told me he usually works on business things on the weekend, so the fact that he even wanted to ask me out and spend his free time with me gives me a weightless floating feeling inside, like a fairy dancing through the clouds.
Distracted from my inner thoughts, we make small talk while eating, but once we finish, the conversation takes a more serious turn.
“Can I ask you something personal?” Matt looks like he might already regret taking this route.
I maintain eye contact, something that’s always been hard for me to do so he knows I’m serious too. “Yes.”
“You mentioned that your mom didn’t want you to move away because she didn’t think you’d be able to make it on your own. Can I ask why? I mean, I haven’t known you long, but clearly, you're a smart, intelligent, strong, and a beautiful woman, inside and out.”
I flush at the compliments. Since I struggle to see myself that way, realizing that others do is flattering and discombobulating.
“It’s funny you bring that up because it's part of something I need to talk to you about before. . .” I stumble over what to say next.
“Before?” he asks, brows creasing in concern.
“Before we get more serious.” I gasp, semi-panicked at the thought of what has to come next. “That is, were you to still want to, to try this dating thing after I tell you.” I want to bury my face in my hands because I feel like a fool, but Dr. Connors’ words trickle through my mind, and I remember I have nothing to be ashamed of.
Gathering myself together, I take a deep breath and slip my palms under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. I can feel Matt’s eyes on me the whole time, but unlike other people when they stare at me, my skin doesn’t feel like it's crawling. Instead, I just sense his concern.
He scoots closer to me, and I lean into him. We stay facing the water, and he rests a hand on my knee.
“Sorry.” I breathe in his scent, which grounds me. “This isn’t easy for me to talk about.”
“Take your time.” The calluses on his palm send tingles of awareness through my body as he keeps that small point of contact.
I look out at the lake before I speak. “When I graduated from high school, I did go to college. I wanted to go somewhere different and new, far enough away from home that I could make my own decisions and stand on my own two feet.”
I pause and look down at his hand, his fingers slowly moving in comfort and support against my skin, making little back and forth rubbing motions. “I had to go to an in-state school. Mom made too much money to get much financial aid, and it was all I could afford.” Thinking back on the whole process of applying to school and getting ready to move out filled me with excitement, at least on my part, to strike out on my own.
“To save money, I got an apartment instead of living in campus housing. Mom didn’t like it at first. She thought, at least during my freshman year, I should live in the dorms. She thought it would be easier for me to meet people and make friends that way, but I wore her down. The cost of a dorm room was nearly three times as much as the apartment I found, and a big bonus for me was that I wouldn’t have to look for a roommate. The rent was reasonable enough that I could afford it by myself.” I always got stuck thinking about what might have happened if I had a roommate, but Dr. Connors constantly reminded me that questioning things like that wouldn’t help me heal and move forward.
“I got a job since I would have monthly expenses, and I didn’t want to rely on my savings. Mom pulled some strings and got me a spot at one of the research libraries on campus. She thought it would be quiet enough that I might be able to study in my downtime.”
Thinking about that time in my life still brings up feelings of helplessness and fear that took over my entire existence.
“I got behind on rent over the winter; the heating bills were higher than expected. I thought everything was going to be alright, and my supervisor at the library said he’d help me out. He loaned me the money to cover my overdue rent and the next month’s so I wasn’t so stressed about the situation.”
Breathing deeply, I try to focus on the present moment, remembering where I was and who I was with.
“I feel like I should have known what he was planning.”
Matt starts to protest, but I cut him off. “I know that’s an irrational response. I’ve spent a great deal of time with my therapist working on that.”
Even now, I can feel my anxiety rising and the vibrating energy of the panic attacks that happen too frequently. Matt holds his silence, allowing me to gather myself, and simply squeezes my leg.
Breathe in, breathe out, and focus on something outside of yourself. I force myself to notice the sounds of the waves, the feel of the soft sand beneath our blanket, and Matt. It all helps me stay in the moment, and the tense muscles in my shoulders and neck begin to ease slightly.
“He asked me out to dinner, and I felt like going with him was an easy enough way to thank him for helping. I fully intended to pay him back, but it would take me a little while. I assured him he’d get his money, but he just waved me off. He came from a well-to-do family, and the money really didn’t mean anything to him.