Chapter 23 #2
But, knowing that she probably won’t ever unblock me, I decide to get the words out on paper.
A therapist during the first few years of my NFL career suggested that I write things down.
He said that sometimes the words need to come out of our heads.
It’s a quiet and simple way to get the release I need. I’ve done it before, and it’s helped.
I walk into my office, staring at the empty guinea pig enclosure. Sitting in the chair I bought for Audrey, I grab a notebook from the table and get to work.
Doc,
I have a million things to say, yet I can’t figure out a way to start saying them. I hate knowing you’re somewhere alone, hurting. That I can’t be there for you. That I’m the reason WHY you’re hurting. I’m such an idiot.
There’s no other woman. There never was.
Same timeline, different girl? No. A complete lie.
I was trying to buy us some time. I hadn’t fully admitted to my agent about our relationship, and I thought it was better if I kept him in the dark.
You know how much I hate lying, and he does too.
He even called me out on it, saying he knew something was up.
But I just doubled down, instead of fessing up to my feelings for you.
I wasn’t hiding you for the reasons I’m sure you’ve conjured up in your mind.
I think it was twofold: (1) I was so fucking scared you’d take one look at what I deal with every day of my life, and you’d run as far away from me as possible, and (2) I liked having you all to myself.
We were in our own little bubble, and I didn’t want to burst it.
But I fucked it up, and you ran anyway. Not that I blame you.
I don’t trust a lot of people. I’ve learned to keep my circle small and tight.
Bringing you into my heart was so easy it scared me.
Loving you has been like breathing. That’s what this is: love.
I love you. I’m beyond love, honestly. I’m borderline obsessed with you.
I’d go to the ends of the earth to bring you what you need or want.
I will regret that stupid conversation with Troy for the rest of my miserable life, but I won’t regret the brief time I had the privilege of loving you.
Love always,
Your Jamie
That one letter opens a gaping wound in my heart, and I begin writing to Audrey whenever I fancy. In between workouts, before I go to sleep, every night at dinner. A full week has passed since my world imploded, and I’ve yet to run out of things to say.
Aud,
My word for the day is flibbertigibbet. It’s a flighty person. For some reason, I always thought it was a noun for a tangible object, not like a personality trait. I guess I was addlepated, which means confused. That was yesterday’s word.
Your pillow doesn’t smell like your shampoo anymore, and I’ve never been this upset about a pillow.
I spent an ungodly amount of time at the store today, smelling every shampoo, trying to find it.
I’ve been holding your pillow to sleep every night, as if it’s somehow a suitable alternative to the real thing (newsflash: it isn’t).
I haven’t slept well since the last time I held you in my arms. On one hand, I hope you’re sleeping well.
But on the other, I hope your sleep is just as shitty as mine.
Because maybe, it’ll mean you’ll come back to me.
And then I can get on my knees to grovel, and beg you to forgive me.
Please come back to me, baby.
I talked to my dad today. He said my mom has been in contact with him.
She has cancer, and it doesn’t look good.
He encouraged me to forgive her, and wants me to see her.
I don’t know what to do, Audrey. I still have a lot of anger about how she treated me growing up.
Trying to force me into certain things so she could live vicariously through me.
But if she dies, will I regret not saying goodbye?
I wish I could talk to you. I know you’d see things from my perspective, and how even talking about my mom makes me feel out of control.
It throws a massive kink in my life that I don’t like.
You’d understand. God, I miss you so much it hurts.
I heard from the board today. They said you’re having each bachelor showcase an adoptable animal from a variety of shelters around Denver.
That is so phenomenal, Doc. If you ever decide to give up your day job, you’d be an excellent event planner.
Or a foundation board member. I’m in awe of you every day. I wish I could tell you that.
Training Camp started today. I’m hopeful for this team.
It’s a good group of guys, and we’re already gelling quite nicely.
But deep down, I hate knowing you won’t be there to cheer me on.
And that’s not a guilt trip. I know this is absolutely my fault.
I only want you to know that I’m always thinking of you.
Aud,
You’ll love knowing I learned a new word outside of my word-a-day calendar.
As part of my penance for what happened with the Coach’s niece, I have to do more interviews than ever.
Some guy came over from England, and he referenced our “smashmouth” offense.
Evidently it means being brought by brute force.
I thought he was referencing the band! No one on the team knew what he meant either, because I went around to ask everyone.
I love you. I wish I’d told you that. I wish you knew how much I crave you. How you’ve made such an impact on my life, and how I’ll never be the same man because of you. I want to do better. Be greater. Do all the things you’ve inspired me to do.
In another one of my punishments, I’m coaching a peewee football team.
There’s this kid. Emmett. He’s quiet. Really introverted.
But I can see the wheels turning in his head as he watches our plays.
He’s soaking it all in. After four weeks of practice and games, he told me this week that he’s autistic.
And Aud, I told him I am as well. You should have seen the look that came over his face.
You were right. I have a platform I’m not using.
And that changes now.