It’s been four months with no contact, except for an occasional snot-note I’d send, letting her know I was still angry about how she’d let her anger end us.
Three weeks ago, I was back in Vancouver for another speech. While at the airport waiting to come home, I texted her about there being a flight departing to Kelowna the next gate over. Each time, the same response.
But with each new day, I was able to understand more and more that everything that had happened in my life the last three years was going to happen, whether Leasa was in my life or not. The fact that she was, made the bad things easier and the good things better. And I knew that if someone asked about my being in her life, she’d say the same thing.
Then last week, at the anniversary of the Celebration of Life party, I texted the photo of her on the bridge. No words, just the photo.
Finally, a reply:
“That was a good day! I’m leaving CA, moving to GA soon. Wish me well and the same to you.”
I wrote back:
“Not surprised and happy for you. Surprised and sad for me, though I never really saw us ever having a fifth first date. Maybe once in a while, but not often. Mostly, when I looked at the pictures.
“Always loved, sometimes didn’t like you. But I understood and tried as best I could to create a warm, safe place where you didn’t have to be afraid. “
I ended with this:
“Thinking I’ll be the last person to ever love you. Pretty sure you’ll be the last person to ever love me. Thank you for both. Promise me you’ll go to Mary Mac’s once in a while.
“I’ll be able to feel it, when you do.”
I attached the photo of the bowl, asking that she take it with her back to Atlanta.