Four Good

“Someday you’ll find your Prince Charming,” Caz teases.

“How about my Christian Grey?” Becca says, waggling an eyebrow.

43

Why I’m crying

My friends leave me with a lot to think about, but I didn’t talk to them about the thing that’s bothering me most.

When I told the men I didn’t want to be with them, I didn’t even know at that point how bad my lupus could get. I was essentially helpless these past couple of days. If it weren’t for Sheila, I’m not sure how I would have coped.

When you’re young, you take someone for better or worse, not knowing what life will bring. Now that I know what life has brought me, why would I ask someone to take me at my worst?

Regardless of my conflicted feelings, I need to acknowledge the flowers, so I send a group text:

Me: Thank you for the roses. They’re beautiful.

“I miss you too” echoes in my head, but I won’t let myself type it.

Jay: Glad you like them. How are you?

That’s a more complicated question than it normally would be. After a moment of thought, I tell him that I’m fine, reasoning that it’s not a lie because I’m feeling much better than I had been.

Me: Where are you working this week?

Jay: I’m still in Boston, but on my way to the airport, headed to New York for a couple of days.

Me: Have a good trip.

Jay: Let’s talk again soon, Tina.

About three hours later, my phone chimes again.

Corbin: Just saw your text. We were rafting today.

Rafting? I’m watching TV on my couch, wearing fuzzy pajamas, with Roscoe gently snoring beside me.

Me: Where are you?

Corbin: On the Chattooga River in Georgia. We’re back at our rooms now though.

Jonathan: Hi! Glad you like the flowers.

Brendan: Hi, Christine. Are you doing okay?

Me: I’m okay. I just wanted to thank you all for the beautiful flowers. They’re really stunning.

Jay rejoins the conversation, presumably now from New York: Not nearly as gorgeous as you, he types.

I don’t know how to respond. I want to tell them they shouldn’t have sent flowers, but I don’t want to be rude. I want to tell them we probably shouldn’t communicate — because it hurts — but I like knowing where they are and how they’re doing. I’d like to ask a lot of questions about their respective trips, but I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.

Corbin: Tell Roscoe we said hi.

Me: He’s asleep.

Jay: I’ll bet he misses us.

He’s not the only one, I think.